Effprfttrf  SIthrarg 


r^/^n^^rr^   ^^-/^/ 


HELIOTVPt    rRINTINQ  CO.    BOSTON. 


a  jHemorial 


OF 


O.  W.  WIGHT,  A.M.,  M.D. 

SANITARIAN,  LAWYER,  AND  AUTHOR 


BY 

J.  S.  WIGHT,  M.  D. 


CAMBRIDGE 
Printeti  at  t^t  EtijersiUe  Pregg 

1890 


Copyright,  1890, 
By  J.  S.  WIGHT. 

All  rights  reserved, 

Q 


^^(^.ftii^^ 


To  the  members  of  the  Prismatic  Club  of  Detroit 
this  Memorial  is  inscribed,  in  appreciation  of  their 
regard  and  friendship  for  one  who  labored  for  the 
good  of  others,  who  lived  a  manly  and  heroic  life, 
who  went  away  without  fear. 


Es  hildet  ein  Talent  sicli  in  der  Stille,  Dock  ein  Cha- 
racter in  dem  Strom  der  Welt.  —  Goethe. 

Talent  develops  itself  in  solitude  j  character,  in  the 
stream  of  life. 


PEEFACE. 


This  biograpliical  memorial  of  my  de- 
ceased brother,  I  have  written  for  his 
friends.  I  have  tried  to  paint  what  he 
was  in  his  ambition,  his  work,  and  his 
success,  during  the  changes  of  a  varied 
life.  My  few  and  inadequate  words  have 
been  inspired  by  a  wish  to  perpetuate  his 
memory  among  those  who  knew  him.  And 
if  those  who  did  not  know  him,  happen  to 
read  of  him,  as  his  life  appeared  to  me, 
let  me  say  to  them,  —  it  is  our  wish  that 
3^ou,  too,  may  be  numbered  among  his 
friends. 

J.  S.  WIGHT. 
30  schermekhorn  street. 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 


MEMORIAL   OF   0.  W.  WIGHT. 


I. 

On  tlie  19tli  of  February,  in  the  year  of 
our  Lord  1824,  was  born  a  boy  wbose  an- 
cestors came  from  two  branches  of  the  Aryan 
race.  One  occupies  a  land  where  men  of 
indomitable  will  and  dauntless  courage  re- 
sist the  encroachments  of  the  sea  and  hold 
back  the  invasions  of  man.  They  have  en- 
countered the  aggressive  and  stubborn  forces 
of  nature  and  turned  them  into  slaves. 
They  have  maintained  their  existence  as  a 
nation  for  more  than  a  thousand  years.  The 
other  lived  on  an  island  against  whose  shore 
beats  forever  the  restless  sea,  imparting  the 
spirit  of  its  mobility  to  the  beholder.  Upon 
this  sea-girt  land  was  planted  the  standard 
of  Imperial  Rome,  as  westward  the  march  of 


2  MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

Empire  took  its  way.  And  this  beautiful 
island  lias  stood  sentinel  at  the  gateway  of 
civilization  for  centuries.  The  people  of 
whom  we  write  have  lived  and  wrought  by 
the  sea  in  the  past,  and  have  descended  from 
the  ancient  mariner,  of  whom  the  Roman 
poet  sang :  — 

"  In  oak  or  triple  brass  his  breast  was  mailed, 
Who  first  committed  to  the  ruthless  deep 
His  fragile  bark,  nor  inly  shrank  and  quailed, 
To  hear  the  headlong  south-wind  fiercely  sweep, 
With  northern  blasts  to  wrestle  and  to  rave  ; 
Nor  feared  to  face  the  tristful  Hyades, 
And  the  wild  tyrant  of  the  western  wave, 
That  lifts  or  calms  at  will  the  restless  sea." 

Both  the  ancestors  of  this  boy  committed 
their  fragile  barks  to  the  ruthless  deep ; 
they  had  heard  the  headlong  south-wind 
wrestle  with  the  northern  blasts ;  they  had 
hearts  of  oak  and  breasts  in  dauntless  cour- 
age mailed  ;  they  loved  and  sought  the  free- 
dom of  the  restless  sea ;  nor  feared  the 
peril  and  the  dangers  that  it  brought  and 
gave. 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.  3 

Such  were  the  ancestors  of  one  whose 
life  it  is  our  duty  to  sketch.  Such  brave 
men  were  they,  who  have  lived,  and  loved, 
and  wrought,  and  passed  away.  And  he 
too  has  departed,  after  a  busy,  heroic,  man- 
ly, and  eventful  life,  over  which  falls  the 
shadow  of  a  great  sorrow  :  — 

"  One  fatal  remembrance,  one  sorrow  that  throws 
Its  bleak  shade  alike  o'er  our  joys  and  our  woes, 
To  which  life  nothing  darker  or  brighter  can  bring. 
For  which  joy  hath  no  balm  and  affliction  no  sting." 

His  mother's  paternal  ancestors  came 
from  Amsterdam,  Holland.  There  were  two 
brothers,  by  the  name  of  Van  Buren,  who 
came  to  this  country,  and  settled  on  the 
Hudson,  one  at  Albany,  the  other  at  Kin- 
derhook.  The  latter  was  the  ancestor  of 
Martin  Van  Buren,  who  was  President  of 
the  United  States.  The  former  was  the 
ancestor  of  Caroline  Van  Buren,  the  mother 
of  Orlando  Williams  Wight,  who  was  the 
eldest  of  eight  children.  His  father  was  a 
descendant  of  Thomas  Wight,  who  came  to 
this  country,  in  1635,  from  the  Isle  of  Wight, 


4  MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

to  escape  the  religious  persecutions  of  the 
times.  When  the  Komans  invaded  Britain, 
they  landed  on  a  small  island  off  the  coast 
of  England.  And  for  some  reason  they 
called  this  island  by  the  name  of  Vectis. 
It  may  be  that  the  Romans  derived  this 
name  from  the  more  ancient  one  of  Ictis. 
This  sea-girt  land  is  the  modern  Isle  of 
Wight,  whose  name  is  probably  related  to 
the  Danish  Wightgar. 

O.  W.  Wight  was  born  at  Centreville, 
Alleghany  County,  New  York,  among  the 
hills,  in  the  native  forest.  The  dew,  the 
rain,  and  the  snow  fell  there,  as  they  have 
fallen  for  centuries.  They  seemed  to  have 
grown  weary  of  the  savage,  since  they  came 
down  with  a  new  joy  for  civilized  man. 
The  birds  sang  to  the  echo  of  the  axe,  which 
leveled  the  beech  and  maple,  so  that  corn 
and  wheat  could  grow.  The  winds  made 
music  with  the  splinters  of  the  logs  laid  up 
in  the  walls  of  the  cabin.  The  sun  shone 
into  the  clearing  at  mid-day,  and  played 
with  the  shadows  of  the  trees  in  the  morning 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.  5 

and  the  evening.    And  oft  there  was  stillness 

there  like  that  of  the  primeval  sea,  which 

once  lay  above  this  fair  land.     Here,  where 

man   and   nature  could   meet,   and   mingle 

the  mysterious  life  of  one  and  the  sentient 

soul  of  the  other,  he  first  saw  the  light,  — 

the  first  consciousness  of  being  came  to  a 

new-born  soul,  that  was  overshadowed   by 

the  mysteries  of  the  forests,  the  clouds,  and 

the  stars. 

"'Tis  not  in  man, 
To  look  unmoved  upon  that  heaving  waste, 
Which,  from  horizon  to  horizon  spread. 
Meets  the  o'erarching  heavens  on  every  side. 
Blending  their  hues  in  distant  faintness  there, 

"  'T  is  wonderful !  —  and  yet,  my  boy,  just  such 
Is  life.     Life  is  a  sea  as  fathomless. 
As  wide,  as  terrible,  and  yet,  sometimes. 
As  calm  and  beautiful.     The  light  of  heaven 
Smiles  on  it  ;  and  't  is  decked  with  every  hue 
Of  glory  and  of  joy.     Anon  dark  clouds 
Arise  ;  contending  winds  of  fate  go  forth  ;  — 
And  hope  sits  weeping  o'er  a  general  wreck. 

"  And  thou  must  sail  upon  this  sea,  a  long. 
Eventful  voyage.     The  wise  may  suffer  wreck. 
The  foolish  must." 


6  MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT, 

What  one  has  he  may  give  to  many,  and 
from  many  comes  what  he  has,  in  body, 
mind,  and  soul.  Our  piety,  our  religion, 
our  poetry,  our  oratory,  our  weakness,  our 
strength,  come  from  our  ancestors.  A  thou- 
sand streams  of  life  are  blended  into  one, 
which  diverges  more  and  more  as  time  goes 
on.  Surely  we  enter  into  the  labors  of 
others,  and  we  give  of  the  fruits  of  our  toil 
to  those  who  come  after  us.  While  you  can- 
not gather  figs  from  thistles,  some  fig  trees 
bear  better  fruit  than  others.  One  child  is 
facile  at  learning,  because  his  ancestors  were 
learned  before  him.  He  seems  to  inherit 
his  knowledge,  just  as  if  he  could  unfold 
the  convolutions  of  his  brain,  and  read  the 
imprint  of  a  long  line  of  culture.  Yet  the 
laws  of  heredity  will  not  explain  everything 
in  man.  Somehow,  there  is  a  new  creation, 
—  a  new  miracle,  —  taking  place  at  every 
new  birth.  Shape  it  as  we  will,  to  receive, 
to  transmit,  to  become,  to  be  born,  are  co- 
related  to  the  Creative  Power.  The  amazing 
faculties  of   Socrates  came  down  with  the 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.  7 

Promethean  fires  ;  the  transcendent  genius 
of  Michael  Angelo  was  a  heavenly  gift ;  the 
matchless  mind  of  the  Bard  of  Avon  was  a 
divine  insight.  Converge  all  the  influences 
of  heredity  into  one  stream,  and  it  is  insig- 
nificant when  compared  with  the  creative 
shaping  of  the  destiny  of  man. 


II. 

The  small  boy  when  he  first  goes  to 
school  is  environed  with  mysteries.  He 
leaves  the  home  where  his  mother  dwells. 
The  distance  to  the  schoolhouse  is  impres- 
sive. He  goes  forth  on  an  unknown  and 
untried  journey.  A  mysterious  future  lies 
beyond  his  vision.  The  clouds  that  shape 
themselves  and  go ;  the  winds  that  sigh 
among  the  leaves  ;  the  tints  of  spring  that 
please  the  sense  of  seeing ;  the  singing  of 
the  forest  birds ;  and  the  pleasant  light  of 
the  sun,  are  all  interwoven  into  memories 
which  cannot  fade.  It  is  a  beautiful  path- 
way to  the  temple  of  knowledge.  How  dif- 
ferent this  journey  to  those  who  make  it ! 
One  is  born  for  and  lives  in  the  material : 
to   such   there   are   no   stepping-stones   to 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.  9 

higher  things.  Another  hungers  and  thirsts 
for  the  water  and  bread  of  the  spirit :  the 
eyes  see  the  beauty  that  shines  through 
perishable  forms,  and  the  ears  hear  the 
music  that  swells  from  the  spheres.  One 
would  escape  from  the  temple  of  knowledge, 
as  from  a  prison.  The  other  would  listen, 
and  gaze,  and  learn  forever.  The  perpe- 
tuity of  our  freedom,  our  liberty,  our  happi- 
ness, and  our  prosperity  is  consolidated  and 
made  more  certain  through  the  rudiments  of 
knowledge  obtained  in  the  schoolhouse  by 
the  wayside.  The  dignity  and  the  solemnity 
of  this  temple  are  none  the  less  because  it 
is  built  of  primeval  logs. 

The  schoolboy  subsequently  wrote  of  one 
who  became  the  great  logical  knight-errant 
of  the  tenth  century :  "  Thou  dost  not  yet 
know  the  cost  of  wisdom ;  other  years  shall 
teach  thee  that  it  must  be  paid  for  in  the 
fusion  of  the  brain,  over  the  burning  of  the 
heart.     And  what  if  a  vase  of  ashes  shall 

at  length  take  the  place  of  thy  heart,  and 

1* 


10         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

thy  brain  congeal  to  stone !  With  thee,  also, 
fate  opens  an  account ;  take  what  thou  wilt, 
but  payment  thou  shalt  not  escape,  even  to 
the  uttermost  farthing.  Choose  thy  princi- 
ples of  action,  but  know  that  thou  must 
abide  the  results." 

From  picture-books  and  story-books  the 
boy  soon  went  beyond  the  learning  of  his 
teachers:  he  was  one  of  those  who  enter 
into  the  learning  of  others,  —  they  who  have 
traveled  the  journey  before  us.  Then  he 
studied  geometry,  surveying,  and  the  calcu- 
lus without  a  master.  After  that  he  turned 
his  attention  to  Latin  and  Greek,  and,  with 
no  one  to  aid  him,  he  acquired  a  profound 
and  critical  knowledge  of  the  classical  au- 
thors. The  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  kept 
him  up  far  into  the  night.  They  made  an 
impression  that  often  made  itself  known  in 
the  productions  of  his  pen  in  after  years. 
This  influence  on  the  minds  of  men  is  ex- 
pressed by  Lang :  — 

"  Homer,  thy  song  men  liken  to  the  sea, 
With  every  note  of  music  in  its  tone. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         11 

With  tides  that  wash  the  dim  dominion 
Of  Hades,  and  light  waves  that  laugh  in  glee 
Around  the  isles  enchanted  :  nay,  to  me 

Thy  verse  seems  as  the  River  of  source  unknown 

That  glasses  Egypt's  temples  overthrown, 
In  his  sky-nurtured  stream,  eternally. 
No  wiser  we  than  men  of  heretofore 

To  find  thy  mystic  fountains  guarded  fast ; 
Enough  —  thy  flood  makes  green  our  human  shore 

As  Nilus,  Egypt,  rolling  down  his  vast. 
His  fertile  waters,  murmuring  evermore 

Of  gods  dethroned  and  empires  of  the  Past." 

Why  should  life  all  labor  be?  —  When 
other  boys  were  at  play,  he  was  with  his 
books.  In  the  hours  that  were  precious  for 
sleep  he  was  wont  to  read,  to  study,  to  learn. 
He  did  the  measure  of  a  day's  work  some- 
times in  half  a  day,  and  the  reward  was 
that  he  could  use  the  remainder  of  the  day 
in  translating  the  jEueid.  He  would  work 
a  few  hours,  and  then  engage  in  the  solu- 
tion of  some  difficult  mathematical  problem. 
The  days  came  and  departed,  —  as  "  knowl- 
edge grew  from  more  to  more."  His  am- 
bition kindled  into  enthusiasm,  as  the  stu- 


12         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

dent  made  praiseworthy  and  substantial 
progress.  There  was  a  wish  to  know  and 
be  known,  and  be  remembered  in  the  here- 
after. There  was  a  desire  to  impart  the 
treasures  of  knowledge  to  others,  an  am- 
bition to  become  a  teacher. 

One  of  the  most  mournful  spectacles  in 
the  world  is  that  of  a  man  trying  to  teach 
others  something  which  he  himself  does  not 
know.  And  next  to  this  stands  the  picture 
of  genius  laboring  to  impart  divine  truths 
that  are  above  the  comprehension  of  his 
pupils.  Rare  and  wonderful  gift  to  put  life 
and  soul  into  words,  and  let  fall  the  instruc- 
tive and  informing  sounds  upon  listening 
and  attentive  ears !  It  is  a  divine  gift, 
greater  than  all  other  gifts,  to  teach  others 
the  truth,  whether  in  the  temple  of  worship 
or  in  the  temple  of  learning  :  and  no  man 
can  teach  the  truth  who  does  not  know  what 
the  truth  is,  —  no,  not  one.  Who  has  not 
fused  his  knowledge  in  his  brain,  who  has 
not  enthroned  his  wisdom  in  his  heart,  is,  in 
speech,  a  voice  and  nothing  more. 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         13 

lie  wrote :  "  I  am  weary  and  depressed 
to-night.  What  a  wasting  drudgery  is  this 
teaching  business !  Some  of  my  pupils  are 
bright  and  active,  and  are  grateful  to  him 
who  instructs  them  ;  others  are  stupid  and 
cruel,  and  delight  in  giving  pain.  To  main- 
tain something  like  order  among  thirty  or 
forty  boys  and  girls,  wild  and  strong,  urg- 
ing each  other  to  mischief,  some  of  whom 
scarcely  know  what  it  means  to  obey,  is  a 
sore  task,  requiring  firmness,  skill,  and  cour- 
age. I  have  to-day  been  thinking  of  the 
past,  and  feel  weary  of  life.  Where  will  it 
all  end  ?  Are  the  powers  that  govern  the 
world  beneficent  or  malignant  ?  What  a 
strange  mixture  of  good  and  evil  in  life  !  I 
am  fated  to  grow  weary,  teaching  these  half 
barbarians  the  merest  rudiments  of  know- 
ledge, while  others  are  born  in  purple  and 
are  destined  to  be  rulers  of  men.  I  do  not 
know  what  it  all  means,  and  when  the  mys- 
tery of  things  present  drives  me  to  things 
past,  then  tristcs  souvenirs  mock  me  with 
the   phantoms   of    blessed    hours   gone   by. 


14         MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

If  somebody  could  but  understand  me,  it 
would  be  a  relief  to  utter  the  thoughts  of 
my  soul ;  but  here  all  are  material,  and  I 
am  alone." 


III. 

A  WISE  man  once  said,  If  you  ask  me 
what  time  is,  I  don't  know ;  but  if  you  don't 
ask  me,  I  know  what  it  is.  Day  after  day, 
year  after  year,  age  after  age,  time  passes 
away.  It  seems  like  some  great  system  re- 
volving noiselessly  around  a  mighty  centre, 
whose  substance  we  call  eternity.  The  past 
converges  into  the  present,  and  the  pres- 
ent expands  into  the  future.  We  measure 
time  by  the  rotation  and  the  revolution  of 
the  earth,  —  amazing  journey  that  we  make 
around  the  sun  !  We  count  time  by  the 
events  that  crowd  into  the  present,  where  a 
thousand  causes  converge  into  one  historic 
effect  after  another.  Each  one  of  us  stands 
and  moves  in  the  present,  for  eternity  is  be- 
hind us  and  before  us. 

In   the  year  1840,  the  studious  boy,  the 


16         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

young  schoolmaster,  with  his  father's  family, 
migrated  from  the  woods  and  hills  of  Al- 
leghany to  the  slopes  and  ghore  of  Lake 
Erie,  where  a  farm  was  purchased.  To 
others  it  was  a  place  where  shelter,  food,  and 
raiment  could  be  had ;  to  him  it  was  some- 
thing more  :  the  mobility  and  the  expanse  of 
the  inland  sea  awakened  in  the  soul  the  idea 
of  the  Infinite.  Step  by  step  one  climbs  to 
a  higher  level,  and  then  the  imagination 
speeds  beyond  the  horizon :  at  last,  the  limi- 
tations are  reached  ;  and  when  the  mind  re- 
turns to  the  order  of  things  around  us,  it  has 
a  new  thought,  —  an  inspiration  of  the  har- 
mony going  through  all  things  created. 

"  Lovely  is  the  autumn  on  the  borders  of 
the  great  lakes  in  North  America !  The  air 
is  so  clear,  the  heaven  is  so  high,  the  south- 
ward moving  sun  sheds  over  land  and  water 
such  a  rich  mellow  light !  Day  by  day 
grow  more  golden  the  fading  leaves  that 
should  be  emblematic  of  a  soul  ripening  to- 
ward the  grave  in  wisdom.  Earth  seems  so 
calm,  so  gravely  joyous,  waiting  with  a  sober 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         17 

melancholy  smile  to  be  shrouded  with  a  robe 
of  snow,  that  shall  be  folded  over  her  bosom 
by  the  cold  hand  of  winter." 

Look  at  it  as  we  will,  the  things  that  sur- 
round us  work  in  the  soul  for  good  or  for 
evil.  There  is  one  music  in  the  trees ;  there 
is  one  song  in  the  waters ;  there  is  one  voice 
in  the  winds  :  and  the  voice,  the  song,  the 
music  change  ceaselessly,  and  awaken  new 
thoughts,  new  sentiments,  new  aspirations, 
which  also  change,  and  remind  us  that 
change  itself  seems  to  be  eternal,  —  all 
things  change  "  from  form  to  form  ;  they 
melt  like  mists,  the  solid  lands,  like  clouds 
they  shape  themselves  and  go."  A  new 
meaning  is  impressed  on  life  ;  the  sun  shines 
with  another  light;  the  heaven  has  deeper 
mysteries;  the  soul  has  a  deeper  insight. 
The  expanse  grows  higher,  deeper,  wider :  a 
vista  opens  to  another  expanse  that  lies  be- 
yond sense.  On  the  scroll  of  the  universe 
God  has  indeed  written  a  revelation  of  him- 
self, and  has  given  us  eyes  to  read  it,  and 
reason  to  comprehend  it :  blessed  is  he  who 
has  eyes  to  see  and  reason  to  understand. 


18         MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

"  Wisdom  and  spirit  of  the  universe  ! 
Thou  soul  that  art  the  eternity  of  thought, 
That  givest  to  forms  and  images  a  breath 
And  everlasting  motion,  not  in  vain. 
By  day  or  star-light  thus  from  my  first  dawn 
Of  childhood,  didst  thou  intertwine  for  me 
The  passions  that  build  up  our  human  soul  ; 
Not  with  the  mean  and  vulgar  words  of  man, 
But  with  high  objects,  with  enduring  things  — 
With  life  and  nature,  purifying  thus 
The  elements  of  feeling  and  of  thought, 
And  sanctifying,  by  such  discipline. 
Both  pain  and  fear,  until  we  recognize 
A  grandeur  in  the  beatings  of  the  heart. 
Nor  was  this  fellowship  vouchsafed  to  me 
With  limited  kindness.     In  November  days 
When  vapors  rolling  down  the  valley  made 
A  lonely  scene  more  lonesome,  among  woods, 
At  noon  and  'midst  the  calm  of  summer  nights. 
When,  by  the  margin  of  the  trembling  lake, 
Beneath  gloomy  hills  homeward  I  went, 
In  solitude,  such  intercourse  was  mine  ; 
Mine  was  it  in  the  fields  both  day  and  night, 
And  by  the  waters,  all  the  summer  long." 

"  In  those  first  days  of  solitude,  I  was 
comparatively  happy.  My  aching  heart  was 
stirred  gently  by  the  loving  voice  of  Nature, 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         19 

and  I  gave  myself  up  to  the  delusion  tliat 
could  make  me  forget  the  past.  Charming 
was  that  bower  by  the  lake-side.  It  was 
a  bower  constructed  by  the  hand  of  Na- 
ture herself.  Thickly  interlocked  were  the 
branches  of  the  maple,  the  beech,  and  the 
hemlock.  The  evergreen  was  there,  like  an 
emblem  of  immortality,  in  the  early  autum- 
nal decay.  The  golden  leaves  were  slowly 
and  solemnly  falling  around  me,  writing, 
as  it  were,  with  the  pen  of  Time,  in  the  air 
and  upon  the  ground,  'passing  away.'  A 
brook  tumbled  from  rock  to  rock  down  the 
steep,  high  bank,  and  mingled  its  waters 
with  those  of  the  great  lake  ;  thus  headlong 
runs  the  stream  of  individual  life  into  the 
shoreless,  unfathomable  sea  of  eternity.  In 
the  midst  of  the  bower,  here  and  there,  still 
bloomed  a  solitary  flower,  proclaiming  that, 
in  the  autumn  of  old  age,  few  are  the  joys 
that  survive  the  spring-time  of  youth.  When, 
at  the  close  of  day,  the  dark  red  sun  hung 
like  a  great  ball  of  celestial  fire,  just  ready 
to  sink  into  the  lake,  whose  further  margin 


20         MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

was  beyond  the  vision's  reach,  I  seemed  for 
a  moment  to  pass  into  another  condition  of 
being,  —  the  earth  receded  beneath  me  ;  the 
heavens  opened  above  me ;  with  closed  eyes 
I  could  see  far-off  winding  shores  of  seas ; 
I  could  feel  the  multitudinous,  soft  watery 
arms  of  the  deep-hearted  ocean  embrace  in 
loving  sympathy  the  land,  and  could  hear 
the  murmur  of  countless  voices  in  a  thou- 
sand nameless  cities  of  man." 

Why  need  we  linger  to  tell  about  school 
days,  which  were  so  few  and  short  ?  He  did, 
indeed,  attend  brief  terms :  at  Pike  Acad- 
emy, Wyoming ;  and  at  Westfield  Academy, 
Chautauqua.  But  for  the  most  part,  he  was 
his  own  teacher,  his  own  preceptor,  and  his 
own  master  ;  he  was  self-taught,  and  became 
a  self-made  man.  In  the  end,  ceaseless  toil 
and  study  brought  the  reward  for  which  he 
longed.  Nameless  and  forgotten  hours  of 
the  night  have  vanished,  while  the  silent 
stars  kept  watch  over  his  fiery  spirit.  The 
intervening  years  pass  swiftly  by,  like  the 
shadow  of  a  cloud.     Intense  and  persistent 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         21 

study,  earnest  and  sincere  toil,  views  and 
visions  of  things  animate  and  inanimate, 
seem  to  crush  years  into  moments.  And 
from  their  passionate  and  receding  cycle 
the  outlook  widens.  As  he  has  often  said 
and  written,  the  Temples  of  Worship  and 
Knowledge  have  been  built  in  the  East. 
Towards  its  fabled  lands  trend  the  ways 
which  lead  to  these  temples,  standing  in  the 
sacred  dust  of  centuries. 

O.  W.  Wight  is  now  twenty-one  years  of 
age.  He  assumes  control  of  himself.  He 
will  make  his  way  in  the  world.  He  is  not 
at  home  any  longer  on  the  slopes  and  shore 
of  Lake  Erie.  He  said  good-by  to  his  kin- 
dred ;  turned  his  face  toward  the  mystic 
lands  of  the  East,  and  left  his  boyhood's 
home,  as  it  were,  a  pleasant  dream  in  the 
past.  "  What  magic  there  is  in  the  word 
'  home  ' !  It  unlocks  the  heart  that  refuses 
to  yield  to  any  other  key.  The  place  where 
one  was  born  is  above  all  others  a  conse- 
crated spot  for  him  upon  earth.  When 
sickness  comes,  our  thoughts  wander  to  the 


22         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

scenes  of  our  childhood,  and  we  remember 
the  hand  that  rocked  us  in  the  hour  of  help- 
lessness. When  old  age  overtakes  us  we 
wish  to  return  to  our  birthplace  to  die ;  and 
and  do  we  not  call  heaven  a  home  ! ' 


IV. 

The  last  words  were  spoken,  and  the  wan- 
derer was  fast  leaving  the  familiar  shore. 
He  sat  apart  thinking  of  the  days  of  youth 
gone  by,  of  the  oft -repeated  story  of  ma- 
ternal grief,  and  of  the  unknown  future  yet 
to  be.  While  he  thought,  the  sombre  day 
wore  on ;  the  dusky  shore  fast  faded  from 
his  view ;  like  Homer's  heroes,  he  was  on 
the  deep.  Through  all  that  long  and  weary 
night,  in  sleepless  solitude,  he  went  east- 
ward under  the  burden  of  hopes  to  be  ful- 
filled. At  last  "  the  gray  dawn  came,  and 
'  lying  low '  in  the  distance  was  the  town  of 
Buffalo,  like  the  shore  of  Italy  when  first 
seen  by  the  wandering  ^neas.  The  beauti- 
ful inland  city  was  soon  reached.  Buffalo 
is  a  little  New  York,  standing  on  a  pocket 
edition  of  the  sea." 


24         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

Two  days  in  Buffalo :  There  was  seen 
the  scramble  for  the  golden  apple,  as  in 
the  Grecian  fable.  Figuratively,  gold  was 
strewn  in  the  dust  of  the  street,  where  men 
rushed  after  it,  crowding,  wounding,  and 
often  destroying  each  other.  And  it  seemed 
a  kind  of  madness,  whose  delirium  was  con- 
tagious, and  impelled  the  beholder  to  flee 
away  into  solitude.  But  the  world  will 
not  let  one  off  on  such  easy  terms  :  it  is  a 
grim  reality;  with  it  we  must  wrestle;  it 
may  be  a  satisfaction  to  see  through  it  with 
the  questioning  intellect ;  but  that  will  not 
suffice.  Sublime  thoughts  will  not  weave 
nature's  fibres  into  clothing ;  subtle  expla- 
nations of  Grecian  myths  will  not  feed  the 
hungry.  Mother  Earth  is  more  than  a  poet : 
she  will  have  you  toil ;  she  gives  the  bread 
of  life  here ;  she  incloses  the  useless  idler 
decently  out  of  sight  in  her  cold  bosom. 

"  The  time  will  come  when  you  will  see 
something  more  than  a  scramble  after  golden 
apples  in  the  busy  life  of  cities.  Your  heart 
is  too  cold,  —  wait  awhile,  and  everywhere 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         25 

you  will  see  a  toiling  brother.  Suffering 
you  have  already  known,  —  you  are  not  the 
only  sufferer ;  you  will  be  unjust  in  your 
judgments  until  you  interpret  life  with  heart 
as  well  as  brain.  The  dear  God  above  you 
sees  all,  and  feels  for  all.  Think  you  that 
He  looks  upon  the  struggle  and  toil  of  his 
children  here  below  as  a  delirious  scramble 
for  gold  in  the  dust  of  the  highway  ?  But 
onward  :  we  will  follow  you  ;  and  doubtless 
you  will  soon  learn  more  of  this  solemn 
world,  every  pulse  of  which  shall  have  its 
echo  in  eternity." 

In  the  presence  of  the  Falls  of  Niagara : 
The  thought  of  finite  power  merged  into  the 
idea  of  power  that  is  infinite ;  a  belief  in  the 
All- Powerful  led  to  a  belief  in  the  Supreme 
intelligence  and  goodness ;  and  the  attempt 
to  construe  the  God  of  the  universe  to 
thought  induced  a  doubt ;  but  Doubt 
brought  the  beholder  face  to  face  with 
Evidence,  found  in  the  rocks,  in  the  so- 
lar system,  in  the  stars,  in  the  eternal 
order  of  the  universe,  —  and  to  doubt  was  to 

2 


26         MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

reason,  and  to  reason  was  to  admit  its  con- 
clusions ;  and  these  led  by  imperceptible  de- 
grees to  assent  as  to  the  truth  of  what  was 
at  first  denied.  Through  Nature,  the  first 
and  ever-present  revelation,  we  may  reach 
the  Creator,  the  Kuler,  the  Forgiver,  the 
Comforter,  for  whom  the  needy  heart  of  man 
yearns.  Before  the  mighty  waterfall,  as 
suggestive  of  sublime  thought  as  the  sky- 
piercing,  snow-crowned  Alps,  the  soul  bowed 
in  humility  in  the  presence  of  Him  whose 
will  upholds  all  worlds.  And  then  the 
Fates  impel  onward  again  :  "  There  is  no 
father's  house  for  you  here ;  the  little  money 
in  your  purse  is  vanishing;  you  are  home- 
less and  a  stranger ;  the  universal  needs  of 
humanity  will  soon  be  felt,  and  upon  your- 
self alone  is  sure  to  fall  the  responsibility  of 
your  own  life." 

Who  can  tell  what  a  man  feels,  better 
than  he  can  himseK  ?  Who  can  know  what 
a  man  thinks,  as  well  as  he  can  who  thinks  ? 
The  real  in  feeling  and  thought  is  sometimes 
more  interesting  and  precious  than  the  deeds 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         27 

of  men  and  heroes.  Let  a  man  tell  us  truly 
what  he  thinks,  and  we  will  listen.  Let  him 
relate  sincerely  to  us  how  he  feels,  and  we 
are  moved.  The  story  and  the  romance  of 
Biography  are  truer,  more  real  and  interest- 
ing, when  they  come  from  the  heart  and 
brain  of  the  one  who  lives  them.  If  there 
is  one  thing  that  stands  high  in  our  admira- 
tion, it  is  the  priceless  jewel  of  sincerity,  — 
for  it  will  restore  confidence  among  men. 
And  if  there  is  one  thing  above  all  others 
desirable,  it  is  the  fearless  gem  of  truth,  — 
for  the  truth  will  make  us  free.  If  the 
best  feelings  and  thoughts  of  the  great,  the 
wise,  and  the  good  were  gathered  up,  and  re- 
corded by  the  pen  of  genius,  and  portrayed 
in  printer's  ink,  it  would  be  matter  for  the 
reconstruction  of  universal  history. 

Mr.  Wight  again  teaches  school,  —  and 
reads  Paradise  Lost  and  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
leaving  us  the  following  impressions :  "  I 
have  just  finished  reading  Milton's  Paradise 
Lost.  Height  is  the  word  that  comes  to  me 
first.  .  .  .  The  poem  itself  is  .  .  .  theology 


28         MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

in  lofty  verse.  I  do  not  find  in  it  the  nat- 
ural, unsought  sublimity  of  Homer,  nor  the 
graceful  splendor  of  Virgil;  yet  it  has  in 
an  unusual  degree  the  true  epic  verve.  .  .  . 
The  idea  of  created  intelligences  revolting  in 
heaven  against  the  Almighty,  and  waging 
with  Him  a  fierce  civil  war,  in  order  to  get 
possession  of  the  throne  of  the  universe,  is 
sublimely  ridiculous.  If,  with  some  of  the 
Orientals,  we  could  believe  in  the  coexist- 
ence of  good  and  evil,  a  systematic  warfare 
between  their  representatives  would  be  a 
conception  worthy  of  a  great  poet.  But 
when  .  .  .  evil  originated  with  a  created, 
finite,  dependent  being,  then  to  place  that 
weak  being  in  antagonism  with  his  own  Om- 
nipotent Creator  is  to  forsake  the  regions  of 
the  sublime,  and  descend  from  the  epic  to 
the  melodramatic.  Take  the  idea  of  a  weak 
and  ignorant  creature  revolting,  because 
weak  and  ignorant,  against  eternal  power 
and  wisdom,  and  follow  up  that  creature  with 
divine  goodness  and  infinite  pity,  then  you 
will  have  an  idea  worthy  of  a  great  Chris- 


[MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.  29 

tian  poet.  The  epics  of  Paganism,  and  the 
epics  of  the  Transition  have  been  written, 
but  the  epics  of  Christianity  have  yet  to  be 
made. 

"  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress  has  in- 
flamed me  to  such  a  degree  that  it  spoils  my 
sleep  at  nights.  Bunyan  is  a  rural  Milton, 
a  real  Cromwell  among  poets.  .  .  .  There  is 
a  beat  of  Bunyan's  strong  heart  in  every 
word  he  writes.  Oh,  what  power  there  is 
in  language  that  is  ensouled  with  the  entire 
conviction  of  him  who  writes  it ! " 


V. 

0.  W.  Wight  was  principal  of  Geneva 
Academy  for  a  time.  He  made  for  himseK 
the  reputation  of  being  a  successful  teacher. 
While  there  he  was  a  thorough  and  compre- 
hensive student  of  history.  He  admired  the 
literature,  the  culture,  and  the  poetry  of  an- 
cient Greece.  He  was  a  diligent  student 
of  the  literature  and  laws  of  the  Romans. 
About  this  time  he  wrote  a  small  work  of 
fiction,  that  seems  to  have  entirely  vanished. 
Most  authors  are  glad  to  have  their  first  lit- 
erary efforts  forgotten:  he  was  not  an  ex- 
ception. 

From  Geneva  he  went  by  way  of  Albany 
to  New  York.  Poor  in  worldly  goods,  moved 
by  ambition,  having  high  aims,  with  little 
experience,  agitated  by  anxiety,  not  under, 
standing  the  feelings  that  stirred  his  breast, 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.         31 

exploring  the  new  wonders  that  incessantly 
arose,  but  drawn  toward  the  East,  —  the 
laud  of  religion,  song,  and  philosophy, —  he 
first  gazed  on  the  great  city  he  had  so  long 
desired  to  see,  an  interminable  chaos  of 
ships  and  buildings  spread  out  under  a  hazy 
atmosphere,  that  seemed  to  his  heated  imag 
ination,  to  be  the  thick  breath  of  some  shape 
less  monster,  which  the  troubled  ocean  had 
thrown  upon  the  shore.  What  was  he  to  do 
there  ?  Should  he  be  swallowed  up  and  lost, 
like  a  thousand  others,  to  satisfy  the  hunger 
of  that  veritable  monster  ? 

Years  ago  his  ancestors  sailed  up  the 
peaceful  waters  of  the  Hudson  to  find  a 
home  where  nature  and  fortune  smiled  in 
unison.  They  had  journeyed  westward  ;  a 
descendant  was  facing  the  east.  He  was 
landing  on  an  island  which  lies  where  the 
contending  waters  of  the  Atlantic  and  the 
Hudson  have  met  and  wrestled  for  unnum- 
bered centuries.  Here  has  arisen  a  great 
city  into  whose  currents  of  life  converge  the 
good  and  the  bad,  the  wise  and  the  foolish, 


32         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

the  learned  and  the  ignorant,  the  Christian 
and  the  Pagan,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  those 
who  love  and  those  who  hate,  those  who  help 
and  those  who  cast  down,  those  who  rejoice 
and  those  who  are  unhappy,  —  here,  like  the 
waters  of  the  river  and  the  sea,  contend  the 
forces  of  good  and  evil.  Into  this  confusion 
of  egoistic  and  altruistic  life  the  new  comer 
disappears. 

"  A  certain  Samuel  Johnson  and  one  Wil- 
liam Shakespeare  were  adventurers.  A  few 
years  ago  a  presumptuous  young  man,  called 
Daniel  Webster,  appeared  in  the  refined 
city  of  Boston,  from  the  backwoods  of  New 
Hampshire,  thinking  to  make  his  way  in 
the  world.  He  too  was  an  adventurer. 
How  many  other  adventurers  the  good-for- 
nothing  world  holds  in  remembrance !  To 
be  tenderly  and  silently  pitied  is  that  man 
who  applies  the  word  as  a  term  of  reproach 
to  struggling  and  aspiring  genius." 

Awhile  arise  reminiscences  of  fragments 
of  conversations  held  long  years  ago,  from 
time  to  time,  —  conversations  touching  upon 
facts  in  a  strangely  varied  life  ;  facts  that 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.  33 

have  been  recorded  in  the  book  of  Destiny ; 
these  facts  are  not  altogether  in  their  logical 
order,  but  the  impressions  they  made  are 
facts,  graven  in  the  memory  that  holds  them 
dear  and  sacred,  as  faithful  pictures  of  their 
grim  realities.  But  they  may  be  none  the 
less  interesting,  because  they  have  been  fused 
and  transformed  in  the  brain  of  another : 
their  impressions  bring  pain  and  grief,  re- 
grets and  admiration,  satisfaction  and  praise. 
Cruel  fortune,  thou  hast  no  divine  pity,  no 
infinite  love  !  Thy  sinewy  hand  can  break 
down  or  build  up  ;  thy  cold  breath  can  freeze 
the  fairest  flowers ;  thy  smile  can  bring  sun- 
shine and  plenty  into  desert  places ;  thy  hard 
foot  can  crush  the  highest  and  brightest 
hopes ;  thy  dark  form  can  overshadow  the 
most  laudable  ambition  ;  thy  gifts  and  favors 
can  raise  up  those  who  fall.  These  impres- 
sions were  of  one  who  set  out  with  an  imper- 
fect standard  for  measuring  the  world  ;  who 
did  not  then  know  how  great  the  world  was  ; 
who  suffered  much  and  toiled  more  ;  and 
who  as  the  years  vanished  began  to  realize 

2* 


34         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

that  he  was  setting  about  a  mighty  work ; 
that  the  great  self-seeking  world  is  apt  to 
be  indifferent ;  that  it  is  more  ready  to  take 
than  to  give ;  that  it  robs  one  of  his  purse, 
his  good  name,  and  his  thoughts,  without 
pity;  that  the  lovable  and  the  faithful  are 
not  easy  to  find ;  that  strangers  meet  us  on 
every  hand ;  that  honest  bread  is  hard  to 
get ;  that  the  stones  under  our  feet  are  cold 
and  hard ;  that  the  stars  look  down  with  the 
same  sweet  smile  on  all  sorts  and  conditions 
of  men ;  that  struggle  and  heroic  toil  for 
food  and  raiment  are  what  the  good  God 
asks  of  us ;  that  we  shall  be  clothed  and  fed, 
nor  need  be  the  prodigal  son ;  and  that 
great  warm  hearts  are  beating,  full  of  God's 
eternal  love,  everywhere  in  that  endless 
crowd  of  human  beings  who  wander  up  and 
down  forever. 

In  the  metropolis  of  the  Western  world, 
where  so  many  human  interests  converge, 
Mr.  Wight  set  out  as  one  of  the  kuight- 
errants  of  literature.  He  wrote  tersely, 
rapidly,  eloquently,  and  effectively  for  the 
"  Democratic  Review,"  the  "  Whig  Review," 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.         35 

and  the  current  magazines.  One  of  tlie 
secrets  of  Ms  success  was  that  he  was  in- 
tensely in  earnest.  Did  you  see  a  son  of  toil 
at  work,  and  stop  and  watch  him,  with  an 
absorbing  interest  and  a  strange  fascination  ? 
Did  you  not  at  some  time  sit  and  listen  to  a 
man  of  plain  speech  talking  to  those  before 
him,  and  become  so  spellbound  that  you 
could  not  get  away  ?  Was  it  not  true  that 
the  son  of  toil  was  terribly  in  earnest,  that 
the  plain  speaker  meant  every  word  he  ut- 
tered ?  The  heart  of  one  throbbed  and  beat 
in  his  work ;  the  heart  of  the  other  pulsated 
in  his  impassioned  speech.  He  too  was  in 
terrible  earnest,  not  only  because  he  needed 
food  and  raiment,  but  also  because  he  was 
truly  ambitious  for  fame. 

"  There  rolls  the  deep  where  grew  the  tree, 
O  Earth,  what  changes  thou  hast  seen  ! 
There  where  the  long  street  roars  hath  been 
The  stillness  of  the  central  sea. 

"  The  hills  are  shadows,  and  they  flow 

From  form  to  form,  and  nothing  stands  ; 
They  melt  like  mists,  the  solid  lands, 
Like  clouds  they  shape  themselves  and  go." 


VI. 

"  Let  knowledge  grow  from  more  to  more, 
But  more  of  reverence  in  us  dwell ; 
That  mind  and  soul,  according  well, 
May  make  one  music  as  before, 
But  vaster." 

The  ancestor  who  fled  from  the  persecu- 
tions of  reb'gion  was  religious.  He  longed 
for  religious  liberty,  and  went  westward, 
from  his  sea-girt  island,  to  find  it.  He  had 
dwelt  by  the  sea,  which,  as  it  were,  beats 
forever  against  the  breast  of  the  beholder, 
and  gives  to  his  heart  its  own  untamable 
energy.  From  the  land  of  religion,  song, 
and  philosophy  Freedom  had  taken  the 
white  wings  of  the  mariner,  and  soared 
across  the  stormy  and  perilous  ocean.  It 
was  there  that  he  could  worship  the  Maker 
of  heaven  and  earth,  in  such  manner  as  to 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.         37 

bring  the  best  accord  to  his  own  mind  and 
soul.  The  little  bark  that  had  his  all  to 
have  and  hold  and  bear  in  safety  o'er  the 
sea  was  tossed  by  the  wild  tyrant  of  the 
western  wave,  and  brought  religion  to  a 
shore  where  freedom  dwells. 

His  descendant  was  also  religious,  and 
had  been  a  deep  student  of  nature.  In  na- 
ture he  saw  a  revelation  of  the  Creator. 
All  nature  was  reverential,  and  mutely  ap- 
pealed to  man  for  his  adoration  of  Him  who 
all  things  did  contrive.  The  God  of  nature 
also  contrived  the  mind  and  soul  of  man, 
and  put  them  in  the  temple  of  this  body. 
And  man  is  also  a  revelation,  transcendent, 
mysterious,  and  wonderful.  •  And  through 
holy  men,  in  past  time,  God  has  revealed 
much  of  His  will  and  purpose.  But  beyond 
and  above  all  that  we  can  see  and  under- 
stand there  is  a  mystery  we  cannot  fathom. 
That  which  is  and  moves  where  sensation 
and  sense  cannot  go,  we  cannot  construe  to 
thought.  Reason  sheds  a  clear  light  for  a 
little  way,  and  then  we  have  to  walk  by  faith. 


38         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

And  faith  itself  comes  from  a  light  that 
shines  within.  It  is  above  and  beyond  all 
sense  and  all  reason,  —  it  is  the  highest  cre- 
ated faculty. 

"  When  Lazarus  left  his  charnel-cave, 
And  home  to  Mary's  house  return'd, 
Was  this  demanded,  —  if  he  yearn'd 
To  hear  her  weeping  by  his  grave  ? 

"  '  Where  wert  thou,  brother,  those  four  days  ?  ' 
There  lives  no  record  of  reply, 
Which  telling  what  it  is  to  die 
Had  surely  added  praise  to  praise." 

To  him  who  rightly  doubts,  who  wisely 
wants  to  know,  who  takes  his  life  on  trust, 
and  who  will  accept  the  truth,  from  whatso- 
ever source  it  comes,  and  whatever  garb  it 
wears,  more  light  will  surely  shine,  —  even 
if  it  be  the  inborn  light  of  faith,  and  know- 
ledge will  grow  from  more  to  more,  and  more 
of  reverence  in  him  dwell,  —  and  his  mind 
and  soul  will  make  one  music  as  before. 
One  does  not  dread  to  live,  nor  fear  to  die : 
and  yet  one  has  a  nameless  sense  that  he 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.         39 

knows  not  how  the  sands  of  life  may  run,  or 
how  the  tides  may  ebb  and  flow.  He  may 
set  his  compass  right,  and  steer  his  bark  to- 
ward the  light  that  shines  the  clearest.  He 
may  have  fair  courage,  and  brave  the  perils 
on  the  wave,  —  if  he  were  all  alone.  But 
to  take  others  along  upon  the  deep,  dark  sea 
of  life,  and  set  the  sails  for  them  when  the 
light  winds  blow,  and  reef  them  close  when 
the  tempest  roars,  is  a  mighty  task,  so  full 
of  weight  and  care  that  it  bends  low  the 
strongest  spirit :  — 

"  Are  God  and  Nature  then  at  strife  ? 
That  Nature  lends  such  evil  dreams  ? 
So  careful  of  the  type  she  seems, 
So  careless  of  the  single  life." 

The  conditions,  the  influences,  the  rela- 
tions, and  the  effects  of  the  eternal  law,  as 
it  affects  the  life  here  and  the  life  hereafter, 
were  subjected  to  critical  and  profound 
study.  He  who  teaches  the  law  must  know 
what  the  law  is,  and  must  know  that  there 
is  a  Lawgiver.  He  must  know  that  the 
eternal  law   runs  through  the   sequence  of 


40         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

spiritual  things,  that  it  is  the  regulator  of 
the  eternal  order  of  the  divine  government. 
He  must  realize  that  the  facts  under  the  law 
are  unchangeable  as  the  law  itself.  And 
then  were  seen  the  following  facts,  with  all 
their  solemn  significance :  The  Lawgiver 
arranged  the  law,  so  that  it  would  have  con- 
sequences. The  consequences  of  the  law 
are  eternal,  as  the  law,  —  which  cannot  be 
broken.  But  the  law  can  break  the  one  who 
goes  against  it,  that  is,  the  transgressor.  In- 
juries to  the  soul  are  consequences  that  flow 
from  a  life  contrary  to  the  law.  Yet  the 
law  eternal,  like  the  law  of  gravitation, 
keeps  on  in  its  unchangeable  course.  For  if 
the  law  is  broken  or  changed,  it  from  that 
moment  ceases  to  be  a  law.  And  so  that 
which  has  been  done  cannot  be  undone  :  as 
a  fact,  it  will  stand  an  eternal  monument  to 
good  or  evil.  But  yet  there  is  justice  — 
even  -  handed  and  eternal  justice  —  that  in 
eternity  will  make  right  all  earthly  wrongs ; 
so  that  no  man  will  owe  anything,  —  for  he 
will  have  paid  the  uttermost  farthing.     And 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.         41 

justice  has  a  divine  paternity ;  for  as  we 
know  how  to  give  good  gifts,  how  much 
more  does  the  infinite  Father  of  justice  know 
how  to  give  good  gifts  to  them  that  ask 
Him  ?  And  this  justice  contains  the  soul 
of  infinite  pity,  —  the  pity  that  is  the  mani- 
festation of  eternal  Love :  such  love  as 
would  make  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  an- 
other. And  yet  there  was  a  hope  born  of 
this  love,  and  a  trust  enthused  in  the  heart, 
that,  in  the  eternity  to  come,  evil,  having  a 
likeness  of  the  ills  and  taints  of  the  flesh 
and  blood,  would  be  put  under  the  foot  of 
the  Conqueror  :  — 

"  That  nothing  walks  with  aimless  feet  ; 
That  not  one  life  shall  be  destroy'd, 
Or  east  as  rubbish  to  the  void, 
When  God  hath  made  the  pile  complete." 


VII. 

O.  W.  Wight  taught  religion  for  about 
three  years  in  Newark,  New  Jersey,  under 
the  ausjjices  of  the  liberal  Christians.  In 
addition  to  the  labors  of  this  office  he  made 
contributions  to  current  literature,  and  lec- 
tured in  various  places.  In  the  preceding 
chapter  the  general  drift  and  tendency  of  his 
religious  views,  opinions,  and  beliefs  for  the 
time  have  been  set  forth.  That  his  mind 
and  heart  were  not  at  rest  on  the  vital  ques- 
tions of  human  destiny  will  appear  more 
fully  in  the  sequel.  He  had  the  reputation 
of  being  a  logical,  forcible,  and  eloquent 
speaker.  The  lectures  he  delivered  before 
various  societies,  mostly  in  New  England, 
made  him  widely  and  favorably  known,  and 
kindled  anew  his  ambition.  From  this  time 
on  he  gave  his  attention  more  to  general  lit- 


MEMORIAL   OF   0.   W.   WIGHT.         43 

erature.  He  translated  M.  Victor  Cousin's 
work  on  the  "  History  of  Philosophy, "  which 
was  published  by  D.  Appleton  and  Co.  The 
translation  was  approved  by  Cousin,  and  was 
well  received  by  the  public.  A  goodly  num- 
ber of  his  countrymen  rested  from  their  pur- 
suit of  material  gain,  and  for  a  brief  time 
contemplated  a  graphic  picture  of  the  few  in 
the  past  who  had  made  an  attempt  to  become 
wise. 

The  fjuXoa-ocjio^ :  One  sees  Socrates,  with 
naked  feet,  in  summer  and  winter,  asking 
the  god  who  is  wise,  and  then  going  from 
one  reputed  wise  man  to  another,  putting 
all  sorts  of  questions  to  find  out  who  was 
really  wise,  and  when  he  met  with  those  only 
who  thought  they  had  wisdom,  coming  to 
believe  that  he  alone  was  wise,  since  he  had 
discovered  that  he  himself  truly  knew  no- 
thing to  speak  of,  for  he  was  a  veritable  phi- 
losopher :  this  wonderful  man,  whom  a  tragic 
death  helped  to  make  immortal,  was  so  in- 
quisitive and  troublesome  to  his  countrymen 
that   they  did   not   know    what  to  do  with 


44         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

him,  and  when  they  put  him  to  death,  they 
mourned  his  departure  as  an  irreparable  ca- 
lamity. One  listens  to  the  enchanting  voice 
of  Plato,  as  he  walks  in  the  garden  and  the 
academic  groves,  where  he  discourses  on  the 
nature  of  things,  and  explains  the  theory  of 
knowledge,  clothing  in  "  winged  words  "  the 
spirit  and  beauty  of  The  Earth  and  the 
music  of  the  spheres,  and,  in  a  happy  mo- 
ment, calls  him  the  o-vi^otttiko?,  who  seeks  to 
know  the  eternal  and  immutable  principles  of 
the  universe.  And  then  Democritus  comes 
into  view :  he  was  rich  by  inheritance,  and 
became  poor;  at  one  time  he  was  considered 
a  lunatic,  and  Hippocrates  was  sent  for  to 
cure  him.  At  another  he  is  said  to  have 
"  put  out "  his  eyes,  in  order  that  he  might 
contemplate  the  cosmical  theory  of  the  uni- 
verse being  made  up  of  ultimate  atoms  — 
which  were  uncreated,  uncaused,  and  eternal, 
—  and  which  are  in  motion  everlastingly,  — 
and  out  of  which  all  things,  both  of  matter 
and  of  spirit,  are  shaped,  —  and  from  which 
all   perishable   motions  of  the  visible  earth 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.         45 

and  the  spheres  are  correlative,  —  and  to 
which  fall  every  vestige  of  utility  and  every 
form  of  beauty  :  all  else  is  subject  to  decay, 
for  they  alone  are  imperishable. 

And  then  there  follow  in  the  intervening 
centuries  investigations :  in  the  science  of 
the  stars  ;  in  the  revolving  system  of  the 
sun ;  in  the  record  written  on  the  rock ;  in 
the  shifting  ice-caps  of  the  telluric  poles  ;  in 
the  emerging  and  submerging  of  the  lands  ; 
in  the  winds  that  sweep  the  continents  and 
seas  ;  in  the  order  and  sequence  of  things 
inanimate  ;  in  the  stories  of  the  nations  as 
they  rise  and  fall;  in  the  laws  of  thought 
that  work  the  human  mind ;  in  the  arts  that 
make  for  pleasure  and  relieve  from  toil ;  in 
the  motions  of  the  self-conscious  soul  of 
man ;  in  everything  on  which  is  marked  the 
stamp  of  change ;  in  the  principles  that  are 
immutable  and  eternal ;  so  many  names  of 
the  great  and  good  appear  that  they  must 
be  read  upon  their  monuments.  The  sun- 
optikos  must  learn  and  know  about  these 
many  things,  and  co- relate  them  into  one 


46         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

group,  one  system,  one  universe,  where  no- 
thing stands  alone,  where  all  things  stand 
and  move  together.  High  aims :  To  see  and 
know  the  system  of  the  universe  stand  and 
move  together  with  all  its  parts  "  according 
well ;  "  to  refuse  to  take  the  parts  away 
from  the  principles  and  laws  that  permeate 
and  rule  all  things ;  to  correct  the  errors 
made  by  special  science  in  its  search  for 
truth ;  —  to  be  the  only  concrete  science,  the 
Science  of  the  sciences,  the  science  which 
works  out  the  problem  from  the  elements  of 
all  knowledge. 

' '  Enter  the  path  !  There  spring  the  healing  streams 
Quenching    all   thirst !    there   bloom   th'   immortal 

flowers 
Carpeting  all  the  way  with  joy  !  there  throng 
Swiftest  and  sweetest  hours  !  " 


VIII. 

In  1853,  O.  W.  Wight  wrote  a  "  Romance 
of  Abelard  and  Heloise."  This  work  was 
also  published  by  D.  Appleton  and  Co.  It 
contains  many  impassioned  and  eloquent  pas- 
sages, which  exhibit  the  style  and  methods 
of  the  author's  earlier  writings.  In  this 
place,  we  offer  some  of  these  passages :  — 

"  Real  romance  is  in  real  history.  Life, 
as  it  is  lived,  is  more  wonderful  and  touching 
than  life  as  it  is  shaped  by  the  fancy.  His- 
tory gives  us  the  substance  of  existence ; 
fiction  gives  nothing  but  its  shadow.  The 
highest  conception  of  genius  is  meagre,  when 
compared  with  the  drama  that  humanity  is 
enacting  in  time  and  space. 

"  Most  of  us  have  lived  a  romance  more 
beautiful  and  touching  than  has  ever  yet 
been  described  by  the  pen  of  man.     Experi- 


48         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

ence  is  the  light  whereby  one  is  able  to  read 
all  romantic  history.  We  know  when  the 
historian  writes  fiction  instead  of  truth,  for 
within  us  is  a  test.  Truth  to  life  we  always 
demand.  The  romancer  must  faithfully  give 
us  the  experience  of  his  own  heart,  or  faith- 
fully report  the  experience  of  others.  No- 
thing less  than  the  history  of  real  life  will 
satisfy  us.  Truth  is  stranger  than  fiction, 
and  truth  we  must  have." 

"Abelard  and  Heloise  were  human,  and 
have  for  us  a  human  interest.  In  the  Mid- 
dle Age,  heaven  -  facing  speakers  and  actors 
walked  the  earth,  that  looked  quite  similar 
to  those  who  are  moving  to  and  fro  to  -  day. 
Man  then  felt,  as  he  now  feels,  that  it  is 
not  good  to  be  alone.  Then  the  precious 
heart  of  woman  deeply  yearned,  as  it  al- 
ways yearns,  for  sympathy,  with  which  she 
is  blessed,  without  which  she  is  wretched. 
Down  upon  thy  brother  and  thy  sister 
looked,  calmly  and  sweetly,  the  same  stars, 
that  each  night  keep  watch  over  thee.  The 
wind  that  kissed  the  cold  cheek  of  the  Alps 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.  49 

then,  kisses  it  still.  The  same  hymn  of  na- 
ture that  now  goes  up  from  the  hills  of  New 
England,  and  the  deep -bosomed  forests  of 
the  West,  to  greet  the  morning,  then  went 
up  from  wold,  plain,  and  mountain,  touching 
the  heart  of  the  early  worshiper,  and  melo- 
diously uttering  for  him  the  praise  that  his 
soul  would  give  to  Deity.  Then,  too,  each 
son  of  Adam,  and  each  daughter  of  Eve, 
needed  food  and  raiment,  for  which  they 
toiled,  slaved,  enslaved,  trafficked,  cheated, 
stole,  talked,  wrote,  preached,  fought,  or 
robbed.  The  breath  of  passion  swept  the 
chords  of  life,  and  the  answering^ones  of  joy 
or  woe  were  heard.  Reformers  disturbed 
conservatives  in  Church  and  State,  and  states 
men  preserved  kingdoms,  as  politicians  now 
save  the  union.  Then,  too,  men  wept  and 
prayed,  laughed  and  sung.  There  were  then 
marriages  and  giving  in  marriage,  wars  ^nd 
rumors  of  wars,  loves  and  hates,  the  cries 
of  childhood  and  the  complainings  of  age. 
The  enchanting  spirit  of  beauty  flooded 
heaven  and  earth ;  and  the  solemn  mystery 


60         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

of  thiDgs  filled  tlie  soul  with  awe.  Tlie 
old  sphinx  was  still  sitting  by  the  wayside, 
and  the  children  of  earth  strove  to  solve  the 
tough  and  ever  recurring  problem  of  des- 
tiny. Stars  were  silent  above,  graves  were 
silent  beneath ;  and  the  soul  was  compelled 
to  answer  as  she  could  to  the  imperative 
questionings  of  sense.  The  Middle  Age  was 
an  age  of  humanity,  and  has  an  interest  for 
us,  for  human  things  touch  the  heart." 

"  Abelard  comes  up  from  the  forests  and 
the  villages  of  Brittany,  and  gazes  upon 
Paris  for  the  first  time  with  wonder  and  de- 
light. His  blood  flowed  faster,  and  his  am- 
bition is  inflamed  anew.  How  many  sons 
of  genius  shall  follow  him  —  to  fame  and 
misery !  Dear,  deceptive,  gay,  graceful  city ! 
Thou  shalt  increase  in  wisdom  and  beauty, 
in  strength  and  sin ;  thou  shalt  invite  the 
lovers  of  pleasure  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth  to  enjoy  thy  charms ;  thou  shalt  drink 
the  wine  of  poesy  and  wit,  and  eat  the  food 
of  learning,  and  take  the  lead  in  the  world's 
civilization  ;  thy  night  revels  shall  be  revo- 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.         51 

lutions,  and  thy  fair  bosom  more  than  once 
shall  be  drenched  with  the  blood  of  heroes 
contending  for  thy  smile ;  thou  wilt  banish 
thine  own  children  and  nourish  those  that 
come  unto  thee  from  afar  ;  thou  shalt  be  the 
loved  and  the  envied  among  the  capitals  of 
the  nations ;  but  the  rose  of  innocence  thou 
wilt  not  wear  upon  thy  ravishing  breast ; 
thy  queenly  face  shall  fade,  thou  shalt  at 
length  sleep  with  thy  elder  sisters,  with  Nin- 
eveh, Athens,  and  Kome ;  the  hand  of  retri- 
bution shall  touch  thee,  and  through  long 
years  of  mourning  thou  shalt  decay;  the 
eyes  of  strangers  shall  gaze  upon  thy  ruins, 
and  foreign  feet  shall  tread  carelessly  upon 
thy  dust !  " 

"  Philosophy  as  well  as  war  has  its  heroes. 
It  is  difficult  to  tell  whose  fame  is  greater, 
that  of  Alexander  or  that  of  Plato.  War 
is  only  the  bloody  encounter  of  ideas.  The 
great  hero  is  the  representative  of  a  great 
principle.  It  was  not  Caesar  that  conquered 
at  Pharsalia  ;  in  the  person  of  Csesar  human 
liberty    conquered    Roman   liberty.      Ideas 


62         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

were  at  war  in  Abelard  and  William  of 
Champeaux.  The  battle  which  they  were 
fighting  at  Paris  may  have  been  franght  with 
greater  consequences  to  the  world  than  that 
of  Arbela  or  that  of  Waterloo.  .  ,  .  That 
philosophic  quarrel  at  Paris  in  the  first  years 
of  the  twelfth  century  was  really  one  of  the 
most  important  events  of  the  Middle  Age. 
It  was  the  cradle  of  Scholasticism,  and  the 
first  decided  declaration  of  the  independence 
of  human  thought  in  modern  as  distinguished 
from  ancient  history.  After  centuries  of 
darkness,  there  arose  once  more  a  champion 
of  inextinguishable  reason." 

"  A  religion  is  the  main  source  of  every 
civilization.  Moral  force  governs  the  world, 
directs  the  course  of  history.  Religion  lies  at 
the  foundation  of  the  great  movements  of 
society.  Christianity,  Mohammedanism,  and 
Brahminism  are  means  of  civilization.  Asi- 
atic civilization  is  as  good  as  Brahminism 
can  make  it.  If  society  ever  advances  there, 
the  East  must  have  a  new  religion.  The 
Turks  and  Arabs  can  never  advance  until 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         53 

they  lose  their  reverence  for  the  Prophet  and 
accept  a  better  faith.  The  civilization  of 
Europe  and  the  United  States  is  the  best  in 
the  world,  because  it  is  the  growth  of  the 
holiest  religion.  In  those  kingdoms  and 
states  where  society  has  advanced  most,  we 
are  sure  to  find  the  best  form  of  Chris- 
tianity. 

"  The  state  of  society  may  always  be  de- 
termined by  ascertaining  the  condition  of 
woman.  When  she  is  the  companion  of 
man,  and  her  relation  to  him  that  of  equal- 
ity, then  we  may  be  sure  that  a  high  point 
of  rational  and  moral  development  has  been 
attained.  Tardiness  of  civilization  has  al- 
ways been  chided  by  the  complaints  of  wo- 
man. She  represents  the  higher  sentiments, 
disinterested  love,  the  benevolent  affections, 
religion,  and  delicate  sensibility,  the  divinest 
part  of  humanity,  that  part  of  our  nature, 
advance  towards  the  realization  of  which 
in  practical  life  constitutes  true  progress. 
When  men  are  brutes  women  will  be  slaves. 
The  lords  of  creation  mav  declare  that  the 


54         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

daughters  of  Eve  are  inferior  to  themselves, 
but  such  a  declaration  only  shows  their  own 
weakness  and  defects.  He  who  places  a 
light  estimate  upon  things  of  highest  worth 
proclaims  his  own  ignorance  and  want  of 
judgment.  Man  through  the  frailty  of  wo- 
man j)ublishes  his  low  estimate  of  all  that  is 
holiest  in  the  relations  of  life.  Strike  out 
from  existence  all  that  is  suggested  by  the 
words  mother,  daughter,  sister,  wife,  and  no 
man  would  care  to  live.  One  half  of  hu- 
manity is  man ;  another,  yet  equal  half,  is 
woman.  He  who  speaks  lightly  of  woman, 
curses  the  hand  that  supported  him  in  the 
hour  of  helplessness,  pronounces  a  maledic- 
tion upon  the  fair  young  being  that  with 
mingled  reverence  and  trust  calls  him  father, 
utters  blasphemy  against  the  Being  who  has 
filled  with  disinterested  affection  the  bosom 
of  her  whose  heart  beats  with  blood  kindred 
to  his  own,  and  returns  hatred  for  love  to 
her  who  has  bestowed  upon  him  a  greater 
gift  than  all  wealth  can  buy.  He  who  knows 
woman  in  all  these  relations,  however,  rarely 
speaks  evil  of  her." 


MEMORIAL   OF  O.   W.   WIGHT.         55 

"  Heloise,  thy  spirit  has  found  the  sympa- 
thy for  which  it  longed,  but  delirium  flows 
swift  in  thy  blood,  and  paints  upon  thy 
youthful  cheek  the  crimson  of  sin.  The 
tongue  whose  eloquence  charms  thee  is  half 
false  ;  in  the  gaze  that  thy  lover  bends  on 
thee  lurks  insincerity  ;  there  is  a  wave  of 
scorn  in  the  smile  that  gives  thee  such  deep 
joy ;  there  is  a  tone  of  hoUowness  in  the 
heart  that  beats  against  thy  reclining  head  ; 
thou  art  cursed  with  passion  and  not  blessed 
with  love.  These  days  of  intoxicating  pleas- 
ure are  swiftly  passing ;  the  Eden  in  which 
thou  art  standing  shall  soon  be  metamor- 
phosed ;  its  bright  colors  shall  fade,  its  music 
shall  cease,  the  warmth  of  its  atmosphere 
shall  turn  to  chilliness,  its  rich  fruits  shall 
vanish,  and  around  thee  on  every  side  shall 
be  desolation  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach. 
We  pity  thee,  but  cannot  greatly  blame ; 
the  earth  is  cursed  beneath  thee,  but  heaven, 
with  its  mercy,  is  above  thee  still !  " 

"  We  pity  thee,  Abelard  ;  yet  it  seems  to 
be  the  hand  of  eternal  justice  that  is  laid 


56         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

ujDon  thee.  Words  of  solemn  import  were 
unheeded  by  thee,  —  words  written  by  the 
finger  of  the  Infinite,  —  Pride  goeth  before 
destruction,  and  a  haughty  spirit  before  a 
fall.  This  is  but  the  beginning  of  calam- 
ities ;  torture  of  soul,  far  more  insupportable 
than  torture  of  the  body,  awaits  thee.  No 
hero,  no  martyr  art  thou,  suffering  for  obe- 
dience to  the  just  and  the  true  ;  but  a  viola- 
tor of  the  high  law  of  brotherhood,  bearing 
the  penalty  of  misdeeds.  We  must  remind 
thee  that  the  universe  is  constructed  on  a 
basis  of  rectitude,  and  resign  thee  to  thy 
fate.  Many  will  charge  us  with  severity 
towards  Abelard ;  but  we  cannot  in  con- 
science address  him  otherwise.  We  believe 
in  driving  money-changers  out  of  the  temple 
of  God,  in  crying  '  Woe  '  into  the  ears  of 
scribes  and  Pharisees,  in  laying  the  rod  on 
the  backs  of  fools.  Mercy  should  always 
temper  justice ;  but  we  open  wide  the  flood- 
gates of  evil  when  we  dethrone  justice,  and 
shield  the  criminal  from  the  penalty  of  his 
crime.     Our  times  are  cursed  with  a  kind  of 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.         57 

nerveless  sentimentality,  tliat  whines  over 
the  scoundrel,  and  has  no  pity  on  society  that 
he  scourges  beyond  measure.  Would  to 
Heaven  that  the  punishment  which  overtook 
Abelard  might  be  sternly  visited,  by  legis- 
lative enactment,  on  every  lawless  breaker 
of  the  household  gods  !  " 

"These  love-letters,  purified  by  Catholic 
incense,  will  remind  you  of  the  ancient 
Spanish  toils,  under  which  Zurbaran  seems 
to  gather  all  the  shades  and  all  the  melan- 
cholies of  earth,  in  order  to  console  them 
from  on  high  by  a  luxurious  hope,  and  by 
the  splendor  of  beatitude.  God  is  not  there, 
although  we  see  only  Him ;  man  only  is 
there,  though  we  see  him  not.  Over  those 
pages,  so  nobly  refused  for  the  expression  of 
human  suffering,  roll  invisible  years.  All 
the  branches  of  that  myrtle,  when  you  touch 
them,  sigh  and  groan.  Stop  before  the 
gladiator,  after  he  has  been  overcome  in  the 
arena  :  examine  his  face,  —  not  a  muscle  is 
contracted ;    you  listen  at  his  mouth  for  a 

complaint,  an  imprecation,  a  word  which  will 
3* 


58         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

be  the  epopee  of  all  his  griefs,  —  the  word 
does  not  come  ;  you  hold  your  breath ;  the 
patient  is  about  to  die ;  he  is  dead ;  and  you 
have  heard  nothing.  And  nevertheless  you 
find  that  all  has  not  been  told.  A  truth,  un- 
til then  unperceived,  has  just  been  revealed 
to  you  :  The  calmness  of  the  man  appears  to 
be  more  terrible  than  the  tempest,  and  it  is 
not  without  fright  that  you  contemplate  that 
impassive  exterior,  when  you  see  within  him 
his  heart  in  agony,  his  hopes  wounded  to 
death  until  the  last,  and  his  mind  in  tears,  — 
all  filled  with  a  dear  image,  and  the  rending 
agonies  of  an  eternal  adieu." 

"  May  one  kind  grave  unite  each  hapless  name, 
And  graft  my  love  immortal  on  thy  fame  ! 
Then,  ages  hence,  when  all  my  woes  are  o'er. 
When  this  rebellious  heart  shall  beat  no  more  ; 
If  ever  chance  two  wandering  lovers  brings 
To  Paraclete's  white  walls  and  silver  springs, 
O'er  the  pale  marble  shall  they  join  their  heads  ; 
And  drink  the  falling  tears  each  other  sheds  ; 
Then  sadly  say,  with  mutual  pity  moved, 
Oh,  may  we  never  love  as  these  have  loved  ! 
From  the  full  choir  when  loud  hosannahs  rise, 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.         59 

And  swell  the  pomp  of  dreadful  sacrifice, 
Amid  that  scene  if  some  relenting  eye 
Glance  on  the  stone  where  our  cold  relics  lie, 
Devotion's  self  shall  steal  a  thought  from  heaven. 
One  human  tear  shall  drop,  and  be  forgiven. 
And  sure  if  fate  some  future  bard  shall  join 
In  sad  similitude  of  griefs  to  mine, 
Condemned  whole  years  in  absence  to  deplore, 
And  image  charms  he  must  behold  no  more  ; 
Such,  if  there  be,  who  loves  so  long,  so  well ; 
Let  him  our  sad,  our  tender  story  tell  ; 
The  well-sung  woes  will  soothe  my  pensive  ghost ; 
He  best  can  paint  them  who  shall  feel  the  most." 


IX. 

The  steamship  which  heaves  upon  and 
ploughs  the  mobile  waters  of  the  sea,  carry- 
ing in  safety  the  pride,  the  hope,  the  love  of 
a  thousand  hearts,  with  its  beams  and  planks 
of  oak  and  steel,  conceived  by  the  mind  and 
genius  of  man,  and  shaped  by  his  dexterous 
and  skillful  hand,  compact  and  strong,  and 
faithful  in  every  part,  a  thing  of  beauty  and 
of  power,  that  braves  the  perils  of  the  deep, 
and  battles  with  the  rolling  waves,  —  the 
steamship,  as  time  goes  on  and  as  it  wan- 
ders back  and  forth,  strains,  and  wears,  and 
tears,  and  breaks,  and  finally  goes  to  pieces 
on  the  strand,  or  falls  beneath  the  silent  deep ; 
and  when  his  time  has  come,  so  falls  man. 

In  the  spring  of  1853,  O.  W.  Wight  went 
from  Boston  to  Liverpool  in  eleven  days,  on 
the  steamer  Niagara.     With  little  delay  he 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.         61 

made  a  pilgrimage  to  places  consecrated  by 
favorite  poets  :  the  rose  -  busli  planted  by 
Mrs.  Hemans ;  Rydal  Mount,  where  Words- 
worth lived,  wrote,  and  died ;  the  scenes 
among  which  Coleridge  lived  and  struggled ; 
the  untimely  grave  of  Hartley  Coleridge ; 
the  beautiful  streams  so  often  waded  by 
Christopher  ^N^orth ;  the  Falls  of  Lodore, 
that  made  music  for  Southey,  were  all  vis- 
ited with  varied  emotions  of  a  poetic  imagi- 
nation. ''  Lakes  and  fields  and  mountains, 
forming  exquisitely  beautiful  and  pictu- 
resque landscapes,  seemed  ...  to  have  been 
planted  there  at  the  dawn  of  creation,  on 
purpose  for  the  great  poets  that  were  to 
come  in  these  latest  times."  Then  he  "trav- 
eled all  over  Scotland  and  looked  much  up- 
on one  of  the  fairest  lands  of  earth : "  The 
scenes  and  places  described  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  and  the  soil  consecrated  by  the  feet 
of  Robert  Burns,  made  new  and  strange 
impressions  upon  the  heart  and  soul  of  one 
who  had  long  desired  to  visit  them.  On  the 
shores  of  Loch  Lomond,  Loch  Katrine,  Loch 


62         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

Leven,  and  Loch  Arne,  there  was  a  new  sun- 
shine; there  was  another  music  in  the  wind; 
a  gentler  motion  seized  upon  the  leaves  ;  the 
birds  sang  sweeter  songs  ;  and  all  the  way- 
was  carpeted  with  joy  :  and  one  knows  not 
what  change  had  been  wrought  in  the  be- 
holder, as  memorj^,  from  these  enchanting 
lakes,  ran  across  the  intervening  sea  to  the 
autumnal  skies  that  o'er  -  arched  the  shores 
and  waters  of  Lake  Erie. 

Mr.  Wight  had  previously  collected  and 
edited  the  miscellaneous  philosophical  paj)ers 
of  Sir  William  Hamilton  :  this  work  was 
used  as  a  text  -  book  in  some  of  our  schools. 
When  he  arrived  in  Edinburgh,  Sir  Wil- 
liam sent  him  a  cordial  invitation  to  spend 
a  week  with  him  at  Largo,  whither  he  had 
gone  for  his  vacation.  He  found  the  house- 
hold of  the  renowned  philosopher  one  of  the 
most  beautiful,  refined,  and  cultured,  that 
ever  existed,  and  there  met  several  of  the 
professors  of  Edinburgh  University.  Soon 
after  he  went  to  London,  where,  at  the  spe- 
cial request  of  M.  Cousin,  he  translated  his 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W,  WIGHT.         63 

admirable  work  on  "  The  True,  the  Beauti- 
ful, and  the  Good,  "  and  dedicated  it  to  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  in  terms  eliciting  his 
eulogy.  "  Hamilton  had  reviewed  Cousin's 
system  with  great  severity  in  the  '  Edinburgh 
Quarterly,'  which  provoked  the  wrath  of  the 
mercurial  Frenchman."  But  after  the  dedi 
cation  of  Cousin's  volume,  "  there  followed 
a  correspondence  which  ended  in  a  treaty 
of  peace  between  these  two  eminent  philoso- 
phers." 

Before  leaving  Edinburgh  he  received  an 
invitation  to  dine  with  De  Quincey,  who 
lived  at  Lasswade  about  eight  miles  away. 
On  his  way  over  country  roads  and  fra- 
grant meadows,  near  their  home,  he  met  De 
Quincey's  two  daughters,  who  conducted 
him  to  a  neat  little  brick  cottage,  stand- 
ing by  a  swift  flowing  brook,  making  soft 
water-fall  music,  as  it  gently  broke  over  the 
rocks.  They  led  him  into  a  small,  plainly- 
furnished  drawing-room,  informing  him  that 
their  father  would  soon  appear.  For  a  long 
time  the  conversation  turned  upon  the  lake 


64         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

district  of  England  and  the  famous  poets, — 
"  when  there  glided  noiselessly  into  the  room 
a  little,  weird  -  looking  old  man,  saffron- 
colored,  with  unkemj^t  hair,  dirty  collar,  long 
snuff-brown  coat,  feet  sliding  about  in  large 
India-rubber  galoshes,  and  extended  to  me  a 
wee,  fleshless  hand,  more  like  a  bird -claw 
than  '  the  prehensile  organ  of  man's  suprem- 
acy.' The  daughters  seated  him  in  one 
corner  of  a  large  armchair,  where  he  sank 
almost  out  of  sight."  At  the  close  of  a 
simple  and  excellent  dinner,  De  Quincey, 
excusing  himself,  "  took  from  his  vest  pocket 
a  pill  of  opium  as  large  as  a  small  hickory- 
nut  and  swallowed  it.  Soon  his  large  head 
began  to  waver  on  his  small  neck,  and  he 
laid  it  down  on  his  thin  arms  folded  over 
one  corner  of  the  table."  In  the  mean  time 
they  returned  to  their  beloved  lake  poets, 
and  when  the  guest  was  about  to  take  his 
leave,  De  Quincey  entered  the  drawing-room 
again,  and  soon  dozed  in  the  large  armchair, 
while  they  went  on  with  their  romantic 
talk.     "  Soon,  however,  the  withered  divinity 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.         65 

showed  signs  of  awakening,  "  when  he  read, 
imitating  the  author's  voice,  Wordsworth's 
"  Ode  on  Immortality, "  and,  "  as  he  closed  the 
book,  a  strange  light  seemed  to  glow  through 
his  eyes  and  illuminate  his  face.  He  began 
to  talk  with  a  voice  that  seemed  to  flow  out 
of  the  unknown,  low,  mellifluous,  ceaseless, 
filling  one  with  awe.  We  listened  almost 
breathless,  and  soon  found  ourselves  at  his 
feet,  looking  into  his  transfigured  face,  like 
entranced  children.  On,  on,  he  discoursed, 
as  I  have  never  heard  mortal  discourse, 
before  or  since.  If  one  could  imagine  all 
the  wisdom,  sentiment,  and  learning  to  be 
crushed  from  De  Quincey's  many  volumes 
of  printed  books  and  to  be  poured  out  in  a 
continuous  stream,  he  might  form  some  con- 
ception of  that  long  discourse,  how  long  we 
know  not.  It  was  a  prolonged  and  inten- 
sified suspiria  de  prqfmidis.  When  the 
monologue  ceased,  the  poor,  exhausted  old 
man  of  genius  had  a  tallow  dip  lighted  to 
show  me  through  the  trees  to  the  road-side 
gate.     I  took  my  leave  of  the  little  house- 


66         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

hold  who  had  entertained  me  with  a  true 
banquet  of  the  gods,  and  walked  to  Edin- 
burgh, in  the  beautiful  Scotch  gloaming, 
beholding  on  the  way  the  great  sun  rising, 
full -orbed  from  the  distant  sea,  and  medi- 
tated on  many  things." 

He  went  next  to  York  and  Manchester, 
and  through  Wales  to  Dublin,  and  thence 
to  Killarney,  whose  lakes  are  as  beautiful  as 
the  lochs  of  Scotland.  He  writes:  "Dur- 
ing a  morning  walk  from  the  village  of  Kil- 
larney, through  the  pass  of  Dunloe,  to  the 
upper  lake,  a  distance  of  eighteen  miles,  I 
counted  over  four  hundred  beggars,  most  of 
them  children,  some  of  whom  followed  me 
for  hours.  They  were  in  tatters,  and  begged 
from  necessity,  and  not  professionally.  It 
was  impossible  to  relieve  the  distress  of  so 
many.  Their  naked  limbs,  sunken  eyes,  and 
lean  faces  proclaimed  the  woes  of  Ireland 
more  eloquently  than  whole  volumes  of  sen- 
sational literature.  Indeed,  the  people  of 
the  Emerald  Isle  have  suffered  more  oppres- 
sion and  wrong  than  any  other  people  under 
the  sun  except  the  Jews." 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT,         67 

He  hastened  to  London,  and  during  a 
three  months'  stay,  had  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  a  number  o£  eminent  men :  Mr.  Gil- 
bart,  a  bank-manager,  and  a  financial  writer, 
a  member  of  many  learned  societies  of  Lon- 
don, took  him  to  the  annual  dinner  of  the 
Koyal  Geographical  Society.  "  There  were 
seventeen  at  dinner,  with  Prince  Albert  in 
the  chair.  The  dinner  was  faultless,  and 
the  propriety  of  the  occasion  was  maintained 
with  a  dignity  bordering  on  solemnity." 
Bulwer  was  "  a  polished  and  accomplished 
dandy,  whose  novels  are  sifted  over  with  the 
diamond  dust  of  sensuousness  more  seduc- 
tive to  susceptible  minds  than  the  shameless 
realism  of  Zola.  And  Thackeray  was  a  man 
who  seemed  very  stately  and  reserved,  hav- 
ing a  towering  genius,  and  a  mighty  sorrow 
in  his  heart.  Thomas  Carlyle,  at  whose 
house  were  Mill,  Froude,  and  Herbert 
Spencer,  when  he  began  his  customary 
monologue  on  the  superiority  of  silence  to 
speech,  and  when  he  was  boldly  interrupted 
by  the  Yankee  philosopher :  — 


68         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   IF.    WIGHT. 

"  Carlyle  talking  refutes  his  own  doc- 
trines of  silence.  To  us  his  speech  is  as 
great  as  the  deeds  of  a  hero.  We  have  two 
eyes,  two  ears,  two  feet,  two  hands,  and  one 
tongue,  —  doubtless,  that  we  may  see,  hear, 
walk,  and  do  twice  as  much  as  we  say ;  yet 
the  organ  of  speech  has  its  legitimate  office 
and  must  not  be  cheated  out  of  its  single 
share.  I  grant  that  we  have  silly  talking  in 
mournful  abundance ;  and  have  we  not  also 
silly  doing,  moving,  hearing,  seeing,  and  the 
silence  of  fools  ?  As  the  man  is,  so  will  his 
product  be,  whether  of  speech  or  anything 
else ;  his  actions  will  show,  and  his  words 
report,  the  quality  of  the  soul.  The  poet 
that  sings  of  Agamemnon's  deeds  must 
share  the  hero's  fame.  Which  was  greater, 
the  philosophizing  Plato,  or  the  governing 
Pericles  ?  Was  the  doing  of  Hildebrand 
superior  to  the  singing  of  Dante  ?  Was 
Cromwell,  in  action,  stronger  and  wiser 
than  Shakespeare  in  talk?  The  Word  cre- 
ated the  world. 

"  Are  not  the  dreams  of  Goethe  equal  to 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.  69 

the  campaigns  of  Gustavus  Adolplius  ?  Was 
not  the  brain  of  Scaliger  as  strong  as  the 
hand  of  Augustus  II.,  the  Saxon  prince,  who 
twisted  the  iron  banister  into  a  rope  ?  From 
the  highest  talk  and  action  to  the  lowest, 
there  is  an  infinite  gradation,  through  the 
good,  the  instructive,  the  useful,  the  prudent, 
the  amusing,  the  exemplary,  the  innocent, 
the  weak,  the  foolish,  the  stupid,  the  profane, 
the  conceited,  the  bigoted,  etc." 

At  the  close  of  the  year,  from  London, 
"  where  everything  under  the  sun  is  to  be 
had  by  him  who  can  pay  for  it  and  who 
knows  how  to  find  it,"  Mr.  Wight  went 
to  Paris,  taking  with  him  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction to  Madame  Mohl,  from  his  good 
friend  Angus  Fletcher.  "  The  letter  was  a 
key  to  unlock  good  Parisian  society."  Ma- 
dame Mohl,  whose  husband  was  one  of  the 
immortal  forty  of  the  French  Academy,  was 
the  successor  to  Madame  Recamier,  and  hers 
may  be  regarded  as  the  last  saloon  of  an 
earlier  regime.  She  took  him  to  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  French  Academy,  where  the 


70         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

"immortal  forty"  were  seen  in  all  their 
glory. 

He  has  given  brief  reminiscences  of  Vic- 
tor Cousin,  M.  Lamartine,  De  Lamennais, 
and  Leon  Gambetta.  Every  Saturday  after- 
noon he  visited  M.  Cousin,  who  had  rooms 
at  the  Sorbonne.  He  wrote  :  "  When  I 
went  to  take  my  leave  of  M.  Cousin,  on  my 
return  to  America,  in  the  spring,  he  made 
to  me  a  very  amusing  little  speech,  —  amus- 
ing to  me,  sincere  enough  on  his  part.  He 
kissed  me  on  both  cheeks,  after  the  French 
fashion,  and  said  among  other  things,  '  Do 
not  fall  into  the  great  tide  of  Materialism 
in  America ;  persevere  in  the  study  of  spirit- 
ualistic i^hilosophy ;  in  short,  follow  the 
great  examples  of  your  distinguished  coun- 
trymen, George  Washington  and  Professor 
Tappau.'  " 

"  I  was  talking  one  evening  with  M.  La- 
martine and  his  wife,  when  a  page  from 
'  Le  Temps  '  newspaper  called  for  promised 
copy.  He  had  not  written  a  word  of  it. 
Requesting  me  to  continue  my  conversation 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.         71 

with  Madame,  he  seated  himself  at  his 
writing  desk,  and  within  thirty  minutes 
handed  the  page  a  bundle  of  manuscript 
which  made  over  two  columns  of  sprightly 
reading  in  the  newspaper  of  the  next  morn- 
ing." "  The  first  time  I  visited  Pere-la- 
Chaise  was  as  one  of  the  fourteen  follow- 
ers of  De  Lamennais  to  his  grave.  After 
a  life  of  controversy  he  had  reached  his 
final  rest.  He  was  one  of  the  most  gifted 
men  in  France,  but  did  not  succeed,  as 
no  man  has  ever  succeeded,  in  making  the 
world  believe  that  his  own  mind  was  the 
yardstick  of  the  universe,  to  measure  all 
things,  the  Church  as  well  as  the  State.  In 
his  last  days  he  had  been  despondent  and,  I 
was  informed,  somewhat  reckless.  He  was 
under  the  ban  of  the  Church,  and  some  one, 
I  have  forgotten  who,  pronounced  a  funeral 
oration  at  his  sepulture.  In  a  long  conver- 
sation, late  one  morning,  over  a  cup  of  cof- 
fee, Gambetta  denounced  the  Emperor  in 
the  most  energetic  terms,  applying  to  him 
epithets  of  the  most  opprobrious  kind.     He 


72         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

cursed  the  people  of  France  for  submitting 
to  such  an  usurper.  I  closed  the  conversa- 
tion by  saying  to  him,  '  Young  man,  in  due 
time,  Louis  Napoleon  will  either  hang  you, 
or  you  will  dethrone  him.'  " 

Long  afterwards  he  wrote  :  "  Important 
business  called  me  unexpectedly  home  in 
the  early  spring.  I  took  passage  on  the  ill- 
fated  steamship  '  City  of  Glasgow,'  but  a 
slight  accident  detained  me,  and  the  agents 
of  the  line  changed  my  ticket  to  the  '  City  of 
Manchester,'  which  sailed  a  few  days  later. 
The  passage  was  of  eighteen  days'  duration, 
against  a  fierce  battalion  of  equinoctial  gales. 
The  'Glasgow'  was  never  heard  of  after  sail- 
ing from  Liverpool.  Sometimes  one's  life 
hangs  by  a  slender  thread  of  circumstances, 
admonishing  us  to  treat  with  gravity  our 
smallest  actions.  Whether  it  would  have 
been  better  for  me  to  have  perished  with 
the  ship  in  the  great  deep.  He  only  knows 
by  whom  the  hairs  of  our  heads  are  num- 
bered." 


X. 


At  the  close  of  the  preceding  chapter  we 
find  four  things  that  are  suggestive :  The 
important  business  which  induced  Mr.  Wight 
to  hasten  home ;  the  narrow  escape  from 
being  engulphed  in  the  sea ;  the  fact  that  we 
shoukl  treat  with  gravity  our  smallest  ac- 
tions ;  and  the  infinite  care  of  Him  who  only 
knows  what  is  good  for  us. 

In  the  last  statement  there  is  a  deep, 
pathetic  meaning :  it  was  written  more  than 
thirty  years  after  the  occasion  which  in- 
spired it,  —  when  destiny  had  brought  all 
it  could,  when  memory  ran  back  through 
all  the  busy  intervening  years,  when  the 
heart  had  suffered  under  the  burden  of  a 
great  sorrow,  when  a  wearied  life  was  com- 
ing to  an  end,  when  the  patient  soul  had 
been   silent  for  long  years,  and  when   the 

4 


74         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

spirit,  looking  into  the  eternity  beyond,  was 
forced  to  breathe  a  wish,  or  perhaps  utter  a 
regret.  Almost  in  the  shadow  of  the  myrtle 
that  was  laid  up  on  his  casket  by  loving 
hands,  he  seemed  to  say :  If  the  cup  from 
w  hich  I  drank  could  have  been  filled  with 
the  lethal  waters  of  the  deep  sea,  and  if  I 
could  have  fallen  to  my  final  rest  on  that 
day  of  storm  and  tempest  when  the  ill-fated 
steamer  was  crushed  into  oblivion  by  the 
pitiless  waves,  I  would  gladly  give  up  all  I 
have  done  and  suffered.  But  this  was  not 
so :  the  wish  was  not  quite  expressed ;  the 
regret  was  not  fully  spoken ;  for  all  that 
had  been  was  left  with  Him  by  whom  the 
hairs  of  our  heads  are  numbered. 

As  we  look  upon  the  endless  manifesta- 
tions going  on  around  us,  and  as  we  reason 
in  regard  to  the  ceaseless  and  eternal  order 
of  the  universe,  w^e  see  a  process  of  evolu- 
tion which  is  the  expression  of  an  unalter- 
able Providence.  And  this  means  that  all 
things  are  related  to  God's  government,  and 
are  under  his  watchful  and  protecting  care. 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.  15 

If  He  illumines  the  soul,  let  the  light  shine 
for  others  ;  if  He  inspires  the  mind  with 
great  thoughts,  tell  them  to  the  children  of 
men  ;  if  He  fills  the  heart  with  immortal 
love,  let  it  break,  so  that  others  may  learn 
to  be  content  with  their  lot.  The  bow  of 
promise  set  on  yonder  cloud  vanishes ;  the 
leaf  and  the  flower  dissolve  into  their  ele- 
ments ;  the  nations  fall  into  the  silence  of 
history ;  and  the  godlike  form  of  man  min- 
gles with  the  dust  out  of  which  it  was  cre- 
ated :  and  these  are  but  steps  in  the  great 
mystery  of  which  we  too  make  a  part,  —  a 
part  of  that  wonderful  evolution  submissive 
to  the  hand  of  an  immutable  Providence. 

One  who  has  not  braved  the  storm-trou- 
bled ocean,  who  has  not  "  heard  the  head- 
long South-wind  fiercely  sweep,"  and  wrestle 
with  the  northern  blast ;  who  has  not  seen 
"  the  wild  tyrant  of  the  western  wave  "  lift 
the  treacherous  sea  on  high,  does  not  know, 
cannot  know,  how  great  is  the  triumph  of 
man's  genius,  that  has  wrought  the  fabric  of 
the  steamship  which  has  conquered  the  rest- 


76         MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

less  spirit  of  the  deep,  and  can  bear  the 
priceless  burden  of  the  hearts  we  love  in 
safety  from  shore  to  shore.  Man's  genius 
has  constructed  a  form,  in  every  part,  so 
compact,  so  adapted,  and  so  adequate,  that 
one  may  say  :  — 

"  Here  's  ^fabric  that  implies  eternity." 
The  important  business :  He  had  been 
engaged  to  a  young  lady  for  several  years. 
"  The  marriage  had  been  put  off  from  time 
to  time  on  account  of  her  health."  Her 
mother  had  represented  to  him  that  her 
daughter  was  afflicted  with  hysteria.  Her 
brothers  and  sisters  and  father  were  all 
dead.  She  was  the  only  living  child.  At 
this  time  the  mother  also  died,  leaving  her 
daughter  alone,  —  her  lover  being  on  the 
other  side  of  the  ocean.  On  receipt  of  the 
news  of  her  bereavement  he  hastened  home 
to  her.  Had  he  been  on  the  ill-fated  "  Glas- 
gow," slie  would  have  waited  in  vain  for  his 
return.  An  accident,  trivial  enough,  left 
him  to  cross  the  stormy  Atlantic,  —  to  sail 
a  long,  weary  voyage  against  the  battalions 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         77 

of  fierce  gales  on  another  sea,  that  "  meets 
the  o'erarching  heaven  on  every  side." 

He  reached  America  about  the  first  of 
April,  1854.  His  affianced  was  alone,  wait- 
ing for  him.  She  had  a  severe  illness  soon 
after  his  arrival,  and  he  watched  at  her  bed- 
side for  forty-eight  hours.  He  met  the  fam- 
ily physician,  and  anxiously  inquired  in  re- 
gard to  the  nature  of  her  malady.  He  was 
always  assured  that  she  was  a  sufferer  from 
hysteria,  and  that  in  time  everything  would 
be  all  right.  The  privileges  of  a  confiden- 
tial relation,  on  the  part  of  the  physician, 
were  not  implied;  on  this  point  there  was 
no  plea.  And  so  with  full  trust,  with  high 
hopes,  and  believing  in  his  destiny,  on  the 
Saturday  preceding  the  fifteenth  of  May, 
1854,  he  was  married  :  his  wife  was  twenty- 
three,  and  he  was  thirty  years  of  age.  She 
had  inherited  a  moderate  fortune.  He  had 
an  income  from  the  sale  of  his  books.  The 
future  was  bright  and  filled  with  the  vis- 
ions of  success,  haj)piness,  and  noble  aims. 
In  the  past,  his  ambition  had  been  realized. 


78         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

—  but  more  was  to  come.     He  was  gifted, 
and  a  favorite  of  fortune,  —  so  it  seemed. 

"  We  are  the  voices  of  the  wandering  wind, 
Which  moan  for  rest  and  rest  can  never  find  ; 
Lo  !  as  the  wind  is  so  is  mortal  life, 
A  moan,  a  sigh,  a  sob,  a  storm,  a  strife. 

"  Wherefore  and  whence  we  are  ye  cannot  know, 
Nor  where  life  springs  nor  whither  life  doth  go  ; 
We  are  as  ye  are,  ghosts  from  the  inane. 
What  pleasure  have  we  of  our  changeful  pain  ? 

**  What  pleasure  hast  thou  of  thy  changeless  bliss  ? 
Nay,  if  love  lasted,  there  were  joy  in  this  ; 
But  life's  way  is  the  wind's  way,  all  these  things 
Are  but  brief  voices  breathed  on  shifting  strings." 

Almost  immediately  after  marriage  lie  and 
his  wife  embarked  for  Europe.  In  due  time 
the  steamer  reached  Liverpool,  and  they 
went  directly  to  the  famous  "  Lake  Dis- 
trict" of  England.  About  a  month  after 
marriage,  his  wife  was,  one  day,  at  Berwick, 
stricken  down  at  his  feet  with  a  fit  of  epi- 
lepsy. "Attack  followed  attack,  until  she 
had  seventeen  in  the  course  of  the  night." 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.  79 

He  stood  alone  by  her  bedside,  amazed,  be- 
wildered, becruslied,  during  that  long,  dread- 
ful, and  lonely  night,  turning  gray  ere  the 
sun  rose  o'er  England's  poetic  landscapes. 
Her  fearful  disease  had  been  concealed  from 
him  by  her  parent  and  her  physician.  If 
her  parents  had  been  living,  it  would  have 
been  his  duty  to  take  her  home  to  them, 
and  never  have  seen  her  again  in  this  world. 
But  she  was  an  orphan  and  alone.  She  had 
not  been  to  blame.  That  dreadful  night,  on 
bended  knees  before  God,  he  adopted  her 
as  his  child.  And  never  a  word  of  reproach 
to  her  on  account  of  the  concealrnent  es- 
caped his  lips,  during  all  the  lonely  and 
trying  years  that  have  since  come  and  gone. 
And  from  that  hour,  he  was  an  affection- 
ate parent  to  her,  "  father  and  mother  in 
one,"  as  she,  in  her  lucid  moments,  has 
a  thousand  times,  with  gushing  tears,  ex- 
pressed it;  and  during  many  of  the  lonely 
intervening  years,  he  was  sole  nurse  to  her, 
—  patiently,  tenderly,  uncomplainingly  per- 
forming offices  for  her  that  no  money  could 


80         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

procure.  He  wandered  over  Europe  nearly 
four  years  taking  his  ward  and  patient  with 
him  to  many  eminent  physicians,  hoping 
that  perchance  her  disease  might  be  cured. 
It  had  existed  from  her  infancy,  and  was 
incurable,  as  every  physician  knew,  and  un- 
fitted her  for  the  duties  of  life :  neither  by 
man's  law,  nor  by  the  divine  law,  could  she 
be  either  wife  or  mother.  For  the  hapless 
and  the  helpless,  in  whom  reason  never  sat 
rightly  on  her  throne,  what  more  could  mor- 
tal do  ? 

Such  is  the  briefly  told  story  of  the  early 
days  of  a  wedded  life,  stranger  than  fiction, 
realistic  in  the  extreme,  and  intensely  tragic. 
And  there  is  another  story  that  may  be 
briefly  told  :  after  his  death  it  was  found 
inclosed  with  an  article  from  his  pen  on 
marriage  and  divorce.  It  runs  as  follows : 
A  highly  respectable  young  man  was  en- 
gaged to  be  married  to  a  young  lady  of  high 
social  standing,  and  the  nuptials  were  to 
take  place  on  a  certain  day.  Everything 
went  happily,  and  he  was  looking  forward 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.  81 

to  a  happy  life,  when  the  expectant   bride- 
groom, two  days  before  the  appointed  time, 
made  the  startling  and  shocking  discovery 
that  his  affianced  was  subject  to  periodical 
fits,  which  the  best  scientific  skill  had  failed 
to    cure.     When    in  a  fit    she  would    utter 
fearful  cries,  and  become  extremely  violent, 
requiring    strong    men    to   hold    her ;    she 
would  fall  down  insensible,  and  the  parox- 
ysm was  followed  by  great  physical  exhaus- 
tion, leaving  her  weak  and  fretful  for  days 
afterward  ;  she  was  truly  an  object  of  pity, 
causing  her  family  many  anxious  hours,  — 
but  there  was  a  hope  that  time  and  skillful 
treatment  would  make  her  fits  less  frequent 
and   less    violent.       She   had   the    "  falling 
sickness : "  it  was  epilepsy,  —  a  disease  so 
fearful,    as   Dr.    Watson    says,    that    "  the 
beasts  of  the  field  flee  in  terror  at  the  char- 
acteristic cry  of  one  seized  with  it."     And 
over  the  door,  by  which  oile  enters  to  the 
full   embrace    of   this    dreadful   malady,    is 
written :    "  Let  those  who  enter  here  leave 
all  hope  behind." 

4* 


82         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

On  the  day  iiientioned,  while  paying  her 
a  visit,  her  great  malady  seized  her,  and  laid 
her  writhing  at  his  feet.  He  was  horrified 
at  the  fearful  spectacle.  He  questioned  the 
family,  and  then  the  dreadful  story  was  told, 
— "  and  the  discovery  shook  his  reason." 
The  next  day  he  wandered  from  home,  with 
a  disordered  mind.  He  went  from  place  to 
place,  no  one  knows  where.  His  mind  and 
soul  could  not  make  one  music  as  before. 
On  the  night  of  that  day  —  dies  ira,  dies 
ilia  —  a  deck-hand  of  a  ferry-boat  noticed 
and  watched  a  young  man  excitedly  pacing 
up  and  down  the  deck,  and  when  he  tried 
to  throw  himself  overboard  seized  him  and 
saved  his  life.  "  He  begged  piteously  to  be 
released,  saying  that  life  was  no  longer  of 
any  value  to  him,  and  offered  those  who  held 
him  twenty -five  dollars  to  let  him  commit 
suicide."  He  was  given  in  charge  of  the 
police,  who  found  on  his  person  twenty-five 
dollars,  a  pint  of  brandy,  and  a  loaded  re- 
volver, which  he  requested  the  officer  to  keep 
to  save  him  from  temptation.     He  was  dis- 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.         83 

charged  from  custody  the  next  morning,  and 
was  seen  in  the  afternoon,  near  the  Hudson 
River,  by  one  who  knew  him.  This  was  the 
last  trace  of  him.  On  that  night,  which 
took  him  into  its  shadowy  arms,  without 
feeling  and  without  pity,  he  dropped  into 
eternal  silence. 


XL 

As  we  have  already  chronicled,  Mr. 
Wight  had  returned  to  the  famous  Lake 
District  of  England,  where  he  remained  a 
short  time.  Thence  he  traveled  rapidly  over 
England  again,  making  a  brief  stay  in  Lon- 
don. He  crossed  the  Channel  to  Calais.  He 
went  through  Belgium,  visiting  Ghent,  Lou- 
vain,  Brussels,  Aachen,  Cologne  and  its  un- 
finished cathedral,  sailing  up  the  Rhine  to 
Bonn,  Coblenz,  and  Mayence,  passing  the 
summer  residence  of  the  Prussian  kings,  em- 
bowered above  the  vine -terraced  banks  of 
the  river.  Going  on  by  railroad  to  Heidel- 
berg, Baden,  and  Basel,  and  through  the 
Jura  Mountains  to  Lausanne,  he  reverently 
visited  the  particular  spot  where  Gibbon 
wrote  his  mighty  history.  Over  beautiful 
Lake  Leman  he  went  to  Geneva,  and  made 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         85 

"  a  pilgrimage  to  Ferney,  where  Voltaire 
lived  so  many  years,  stirring  up  all  Europe 
with  a  literature  abounding  in  amazing 
wealth  of  sarcastic  denunciation  of  what  he 
regarded  as  oppression,  wrong,  inhumanity, 
error,  and  superstition.' 

At  Geneva  he  studied  John  Calvin's  book 
called  the  "  Institutes,  "  and  became  inter- 
ested in  his  work,  as  a  law-giver,  as  a  ruler  of 
men,  as  one  having  the  genius  and  the  power 
to  subject  and  govern  the  turbulent  and  ras- 
cally Genevese,  and  reduce  them  to  order 
and  decency  of  living,  compelling  them  to 
obey  the  eternal  law  of  God.  He  had  been 
terribly  prejudiced  against  John  Calvin 
by  the  oft-told  story  of  Servetus,  who  had 
preached  "  damnable  heresy,  "  and  pro- 
claimed theosophic  theories  that  threatened 
to  subvert  moral  order  and  the  foundations 
of  Church  and  State.  But  "  nothing  oc- 
curred to  Calvin  to  do  but  to  follow  the 
many  examples  of  his  hard  age,  to  put  the 
dangerous  theosophist  on  top  of  a  wood-pile 
and  burn  him  up." 


86         MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

At  the  close  of  a  glorious  summer  and  a 
gilded  autumn,  he  left  the  wonderland  of 
the  Alps,  and  went  down  the  Rhone,  through 
leafless  vineyards,  to  Lyons,  Avignon,  and 
Marseilles,  an  old  city  founded  by  the  Greeks 
not  long  after  the  fabled  nursing  of  Romulus 
and  Remus  by  the  female  wolf  on  the  site 
of  future  Rome.  A  long  journey  by  dili- 
gence took  him  to  Nice,  where  he  spent  the 
rest  of  the  winter,  where  he  met  ex-Presi- 
dent Van  Buren,  and  whence,  in  the  spring, 
while  the  orange  trees  were  in  blossom,  he 
went  to  Turin.  There  he  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  meet  Count  Cavour,  and  hear  him 
make  a  speech  in  the  Senate.  He  was  one 
of  the  greatest  statesmen  of  our  time,  and 
"  it  was  fortunate  for  Italy  that  he  lived  long 
enough  to  lay  the  solid  foundation  of  her 
unity." 

In  his  book,  "  A  Winding  Journey  around 
the  World , "  he  tells  the  following  story : 
"  From  Turin  I  went  to  Alexandria,  and 
thence  northward  to  the  terminus  of  the 
railroad  at  a  little  village  on   the   western 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.         87 

shore  of  Lake  Maggiore.  It  was  raining 
fearfully  on  my  arrival,  and  a  bitter  wind 
was  blowing  from  the  great,  white,  snow- 
clad  Alps.  At  the  only  inn  of  the  village  I 
inquired  the  price  of  a  room.  One  always 
makes  such  an  inquiry  in  Italy,  if  he  is 
at  all  prudent.  The  proprietor  said  it  was 
twenty  francs  a  day  not  including  meals.  I 
told  him  I  would  not  pay  the  extortionate 
price.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  re- 
sponded that  there  was  no  other  hotel  in  the 
place,  and  that  the  train  did  not  return  till 
the  next  day,  at  the  same  time  directing  at- 
tention to  the  driving  rain  outside.  I  took 
my  gripsack  in  my  hand  and  walked  down 
to  the  shore  of  the  lake,  where  I  bargained 
with  three  fishermen,  who  had  a  strong  boat, 
to  row  me  to  the  other  side.  I  took  the 
helm  and  the  three  stalwart  fellows  rowed 
bravely  through  the  waves  three  miles  to  a 
town  on  the  opposite  shore.  They  hurried 
away  on  landing,  and  I  was  taken  in  charge 
by  two  Austrian  soldiers,  who  conducted  me, 
dripping   wet,   before   the   commandant   of 


88         MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

the  border  military  post.  My  passport  was 
promptly  demanded,  which  had  been  re- 
cently vised  at  Turin  by  the  American 
charge  d'affaires  and  the  Austrian  ambas- 
sador. The  officer  was  not  satisfied  with 
the  passport  alone,  but  subjected  me  to  a 
searching  crossexamination,  questioning  me 
in  German,  English,  French,  and  Italian. 
It  happened  that  I  could  answer  him  in 
whatever  speech  he  used.  His  questions 
were  answered  promptly  and  courteously. 
At  length  I  explained  to  him  how  I  came  to 
cross  the  frontier  between  Italy  and  Austrian 
territory  at  such  an  inauspicious  time.  In  a 
sort  of  apologetic  way  he  said  that  political 
propagandists  resorted  to  any  means  of  en- 
tering the  country,  and  that  he  was  obliged 
to  obey  orders  by  exercising  a  sharp  scrutiny. 
I  responded,  a  little  significantly,  that  I  was 
not  an  enemy  of  Austria,  especially  while  in 
Austria,  and  requested  him  to  send  a  soldier 
with  me  to  show  me  to  the  best  hotel.  Tak- 
ing my  leave,  I  invited  him  to  call  on  me  at 
the  hotel  and  drink  a  bottle  of  wine  with  me. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.         89 

He  sent  up  Lis  card  in  the  evening,  and  we 
had  a  long,  pleasant  conversation  over  a 
bottle  of  sparkling  d'Asti,  during  which  he 
told  me  a  good  deal  more  about  the  relations 
of  Austria  and  Italy  than  his  government 
would  liave  approved." 

The  next  day  the  Italian  sun  shone  out 
brightly,  and  he  went  on  to  Como,  Milan, 
Verona, Vincenza,  Padua,  and  Venice.  These 
cities  "recall  the  tumultuous  history  of 
twenty  centuries,  and  still  contain  the  mon- 
uments and  art  treasures  of  many  vanished 
generations."  How  we  begin  to  realize  that 
there  are  other  workers  on  this  planet  be- 
sides ourselves  I  And  then  we  understand 
that  we  have  inherited  the  past.  And  so 
we  see  that  we  may  contribute  something 
to  the  future.  He  writes :  "  One  picture 
among  many  that  I  saw  in  Venice  struck 
my  imagination  very  vividly,  and  has  been 
a  mental  possession  for  me  ever  since  ;  that 
was  a  portrait  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  by 
Titian,  in  the  private  gallery  of  the  Man- 
frini  palace.     Even  now,  after  more  than 


90         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

thirty  years,  I  can  shut  my  eyes  and  con- 
template it  in  all  its  exquisite  details.  Af- 
terwards, at  Kome,  I  added  to  my  private 
gallery  Domenichino's  "  Communion  of  St. 
Jerome,"  and  the  "  Taking  down  from  the 
Cross,"  of  Daniele  da  Yolterra.  Again,  at 
Dresden,  I  added  Raphael's  "  Madonna  di 
San  Sisto."  This  little  collection  of  great 
pictures  hang  imperishably  in  my  brain,  and 
I  would  not  exchange  it  for  any  gallery  in 
the  world.  In  the  night,  when  I  cannot 
sleep,  I  only  have  to  close  my  eyes  firmly 
in  order  to  see  my  precious  pictures,  which 
I  expect  to  carry  with  me  into  the  next 
world.  This  may  be  a  species  of  madness ; 
if  it  is,  I  prefer  it  to  sanity." 

In  the  days  of  a  rapid  journey  to  and  fro, 
through  northern  Italy,  amid  the  vales  and 
hills,  where  came  the  invaders  to  overthrow 
old  Rome,  he  learned  many  things  strange 
and  new,  and  "  began  to  realize  how  little 
travelers  who  are  not  students  of  history, 
whose  eyes  have  not  been  unsealed  by  the 
great  poets  and  painters  to  the  mysterious 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.  91 

beauties  of  nature,  —  how  little  they  can 
learn  and  know  of  the  beauties  and  wonders 
of  these  eastern  lands.  The  soul  of  the 
world  reveals  something  of  itself  to  the  seer, 
only  a  shadowy  little  of  which  he  can  con- 
vey to  others  by  means  of  color,  form,  or 
winged  words." 

He  went  to  spend  the  summer  at  the  Baths 
of  Lucca,  in  the  Apennines,  where  was  the 
summer  residence  of  the  Tuscan  count. 
There,  under  a  good  master,  he  made  a 
critical  study  of  the  Italian  language,  which 
he  could  already  speak  and  read.  Again 
he  writes  :  "  '  All  went  merry  as  a  marriage 
bell,'  till  the  cholera  came  in  August.  I 
saw  terrified  Italians  lie  down  on  the  grass 
by  the  roadside  and  die  with  it  in  half  an 
hour.  Friends,  whom  one  saw  well  at  even- 
ing, were  dead  with  it  in  the  morning.  Two 
or  three  thousand  summer  visitors  fled,  no 
one  seemed  to  know  whither.  In  Florence, 
fifty  miles  away,  over  fifteen  per  cent,  of  the 
population  perished  with  the  pestilence.  I 
went  with  the  brave,  good  parish  priest,  day 


92         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

after  day,  to  visit  his  dying  people.  By- 
and-by,  I  too  had  the  disease.  My  friend, 
the  priest,  came  to  see  me  and  offer  the  con- 
solations of  religion.  '  Do  you  think,  good 
father,'  I  said  to  him,  *  if  I  were  to  die 
now,  God  would  damn  me  ? '  He  looked  at 
me  pathetically,  and  responded,  '  I  don't 
know ;  I  know  I  would  not ;  and  God  is 
better  than  I  am.'  " 

"Then  spake  the  prince  :  'Is  this  the  end  which 
comes 
To  all  who  live  ?  ' 

'  This  is  the  end  that  comes 
To  all,'  quoth  Channa  ;  *  he  upon  the  pyre  — 


Ate,  drank,  laughed,  loved,  and  lived,  and  liked  life 

well. 
Then  came  —  who  knows  ?  —  some  gust  of  jungle- 
wind, 
A  stumble  on  the  path,  a  taint  in  the  tank, 
A  snake's  nip,  half  a  span  of  angry  steel, 
A  chill,  a  fish-bone,  or  a  falling  tile. 
And  life  was  over  and  the  man  is  dead.'  " 

After  having  learned  to  appreciate  sculp- 
ture  in  Florence,  and  having  been  taught 


MEMORIAL   OF   0.   W.   WIGHT.         93 

the  wonderful  lesson  of  how  much  man  can 
tell  his  fellow-man  by  exquisite  forms  cut  in 
marble,  he  went  to  Rome,  the  Eternal  City^ 
which  is  the  centre  of  the  world,  and  looked 
upon  it  wdth  feelings  impossible  to  describe. 
He  remained  there  many  mouths,  devoting 
every  day  to  the  study  of  its  ruins,  antiqui- 
ties, museums,  churches,  and  treasures  of 
art.  The  vastness  of  Rome  at  first  discour- 
aged him,  but  working  like  the  elements, 
making  no  haste,  tahing  no  rest,  he  added 
little  by  little  to  his  conquest  of  knowledge. 
Says  he  :  "  Rome  did  for  me  in  architecture 
what  Florence  had  done  for  me  in  sculpture. 
With  the  help  of  Canina's  superb  drawings 
I  reconstructed  in  imagination  all  the  im- 
portant buildings  of  ancient  Rome,  out  of 
their  ruins.  The  dull  details  of  the  guide- 
books, bewildering  and  stupefying  when 
studied  alone,  afforded  clews  that  led  up  to 
fruitful  results  when  followed  with  the  aid  of 
a  book  of  real  genius.  Dead  ruins  seemed 
to  stir  with  life  when  viewed  in  the  light 
shed  on  them  by  Goethe,  and  miscellaneous 


94         MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

miles  of  broken  marble  figures  in  the  Vat- 
ican seemed  to  have  a  resurrection  when 
breathed  upon  by  the  spirit  of  Winckel- 
mann.  .  .  .  There  were  at  Rome  many- 
eminent  artists,  who  were  very  polite  to 
travelers,  among  whom  I  formed  several 
very  pleasant  acquaintances.  Their  society 
was  especially  useful  to  a  student  who  was 
not  contented  with  mere  guidebook  infor- 
mation." 

From  Rome  he  journeyed  to  Naples. 
Thence  he  made  an  excursion  to  Sicily  on 
post-horses  across  the  island  and  around 
the  base  of  Mount  Etna.  He  kept  on  to 
Catania,  Messina,  and  Riggio,  "  the  south- 
ernmost city  of  Italy,  from  whose  orange 
groves  the  view  at  morning  and  evening, 
along  the  eastern  shore  of  Sicily,  with 
smoking  Mount  Etna  in  the  distance,  was 
as  enchanting  as  one's  dreams  of  Paradise." 
Again  going  northward  with  post-horses 
through  Rome,  Sienna,  Florence,  Bologna, 
Modena,  Parma,  Mantua,  Verona,  Venice, 
to   Lago   di  Garda,  he  "  took   a   boat  and 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.  95 

sailed    sixty   miles    into    the    bosom  of   the 
Alps." 

He  writes :  "  At  Mais,  on  the  way,  I  en- 
gaged of  an  innkeeper  a  suitable  vehicle 
and  went  over  the  Stelvio  Pass  to  the  Baths 
of  Bormio,  in  Italy.  It  is  the  highest  road 
in  Europe,  thirty-five  miles  long,  built  by 
the  Austrian  government  for  military  pur- 
poses, at  a  cost  of  thirty-five  millions  of 
florins.  The  vast  Oertler  glacier,  the 
grandest  in  all  the  Alps,  was  seen  from  all 
points  of  view,  while  ascending  the  mighty 
mountain,  in  places  steep  as  a  house-roof, 
by  a  series  of  zigzags  made  with  engineer- 
ing skill.  If  you  can  imagine  Niagara 
Falls  to  be  twenty  times  higher,  several 
times  wider,  many  times  vaster  in  every 
way,  and  to  be  suddenly  frozen  solid,  you 
form  some  conception  of  the  Oertler  glacier. 
Human  speech  cannot  describe  the  grandeur 
of  the  view  from  the  top  of  the  pass.  On 
the  Italian  side,  slender,  rocky,  mountain 
spines,  ice-clad  in  all  their  depressed  inter- 
spaces, looked   like  a  city  of  cathedrals  in 


96         MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

the  sky,  extending  on  either  hand  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach.  With  a  good  glass, 
one  could  see  the  marble  dome  of  Milan 
Cathedral  and  the  waters  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean flashing  in  the  southern  sun.  In 
strange  contrast,  the  forests  of  the  Tyro- 
lese  side  presented  an  interminable  sea  of 
softest  green,  broken  here  and  there  by 
cleared  spaces  with  their  villages,  like  irreg- 
ular patches  of  gold  set  in  emerald. 

"  My  driver  proved  to  be  a  drunkard. 
He  nursed  a  black  bottle  all  the  way  up 
the  mountain,  and  when  we  reached  the 
summit  he  was  not  in  a  condition  to  guide 
his  horses  along  a  precipice  more  than  fif- 
teen hundred  feet  plumb  down.  Neither 
would  he  give  up  the  reins  to  me.  The 
only  alternative  was  to  pitch  him  out  into 
the  snow  and  drive  myself.  1  drove  down 
on  the  Italian  side  till  I  reached  the  first 
Austrian  military  station,  three  miles  below. 
.  .  .  The  enraged  driver  came  up  on  foot 
while  I  was  drinking  a  bottle  of  wine  with 
the   commandant   of   the   station.      At  my 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.         9T 

request  he  was  locked  up  in  the  guard- 
house, on  bread  and  water,  and  the  polite 
Austrian  officer  detailed  a  soldier  to  drive 
me  down  to  Bormio.  The  next  morning, 
on  my  return,  the  fellow  was  let  out,  quite 
sober  and  very  penitent.  He  drove  me 
back  to  Mais,  without  further  mishap." 

Botzen,  Innsbruck,  and  Salzburg  were  vis- 
ited, and  then  Ischl,  in  upper  Austria,  the 
summer  resort  of  the  imperial  court.  From 
this  place  delightful  excursions  were  made 
among  the  Styrian  Alps.  "  In  one  of  these 
excursions,  "  says  he,  "  I  fell  upon  the  Aus- 
trian emperor  and  his  suite  of  Jagers.  We 
took  a  midday  meal  in  a  mountain  inn  at 
a  common  table.  It  was  the  custom  of  the 
dull  host  to  collect  a  florin  from  each  guest 
during  the  meal.  The  good-natured  emperor 
handed  a  florin  over  his  shoulder,  remark- 
ing :  '  I  suppose  I  must  pay  like  the  rest.' 
The  handsome  empress,  an  excellent  horse- 
woman, looked  very  gay  with  her  attendants, 
as  the  shadows  began  to  stretch  themselves 


98         MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

along  tlie  picturesque  roads  in  the  after  part 
of  the  day." 

At  the  close  of  summer  he  went  back  to 
Salzburg,  and  thence  to  Lake  Konigsee, 
over  loftj  mountains  through  Rosenheim  to 
Munich,  where  he  remained  a  few  weeks  to 
study  Bavarian  art.  "  It  amused  me,  "  says 
he,  "  very  much  to  see  in  a  fresco,  on  the 
wall  of  a  recently  built  church,  the  devil 
painted  with  the  head  of  Goethe.  The  great 
German  poet  will  live  long  after  frescoes 
and  church  have  crumbled  into  dust.  It  is 
not  worth  our  while  to  lose  temper  over 
such  impotent  attempts  to  defame  immortal 
genius." 

The  traveler  went  on  through  Augsburg, 
Donauwerth,  Ratisbon,  down*  the  "blue" 
Danube  to  Vienna,  and  thence  to  Buda- 
Pesth,  where  he  saw  the  Emperor  Franz 
Joseph  and  his  brother,  the  unfortunate 
Maximilian,  "disembark  from  the  royal 
yacht  and  drive  up  the  long  hill  to  the  castle 
of  Buda.  The  two,  sitting  side  by  side, 
drove  in  an  open  barouche,  without  guards 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.  99 

or  attendants.  The  multitude  was  so  dense 
that  they  frequently  crowded  persons  in  front 
between  the  wheels  of  the  barouche,  when 
the  attentively  observing  monarch  would 
touch  the  coachman  with  a  light  bamboo 
cane,  as  a  signal  to  stop,  till  the  unfortunates 
could  extricate  themselves.  There  was  not 
at  that  time  another  sovereign  in  all  Europe 
who  could  have  thus  trusted  himself  to  his 
own  people.  And  that,  too,  was  not  very 
long  after  the  great  Hungarian  revolution. 
The  young  men  were  brave,  and  the  high- 
strung  Hungarians  would  not  disgrace  them- 
selves by  touching  a  hair  of  the  undefended 
emperor's  head,  although  at  heart  they  might 
have  hated  him." 

He  retraced  his  steps  to  Vienna,  and 
thence  went  on  to  Dresden,  Berlin,  Potsdam, 
and  back  to  Dresden  for  the  winter.  At  the 
outset  he  procured  a  proper  master  and  en- 
tered upon  a  systematic  study  of  the  German 
language.  "  The  society  of  Dresden  was 
charming,  and  its  rich  picture  gallery  was 
constantly  attractive.     The  theatre,  taken  all 


100      MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

in  all,  was  tlien  the  best  in  Germany.  The 
best  plays  of  Shakespeare,  in  Schlegel  and 
Finck's  excellent  translation,  with  such 
actors  as  Davidson  and  Devrienne,  were  put 
upon  the  stage  thoroughly  and  well.  The 
interpretation  of  Shakespeare  by  Gervinus, 
the  best  critic  of  the  great  dramatist  in 
any  language,  was  carefully  studied.  Every 
presentation  of  a  play  threw  new  light  upon 
it  from  the  highest  intellectual  standpoint. 
The  best  dramas  of  Schiller  and  Goethe  were 
put  upon  the  stage,  to  the  satisfaction  of  very 
exacting  audiences." 

In  the  spring  he  left  Dresden,  and  went, 
by  way  of  Leipsic,  Hanover,  and  Dusseldorf, 
to  London,  to  superintend  the  publication  of 
a  book  he  had  written  during  his  travels  in 
Europe.  It  was  published  by  Mr.  Bentley, 
"  anonymously  in  two  volumes,"  and  "  was 
reasonably  successful."  The  only  copy  of 
this  work  existing  in  America  is  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  author  of  these  memoirs.  It 
is  a  philosophical  fiction  of  no  ordinary 
merit,  and  would  not  quite  suit  the  taste  of 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       101 

the  reader  accustomed  to  be  pleased  witli  tlie 
exciting  literature  of  the  present.  It  has 
been  revised  by  its  author,  and  a  probable 
intention  to  republish  it  may  be  carried  out 
some  day. 

From  London  he  went  to  France,  made 
the  tour  of  Normandy,  then  hastened  to 
Paris,  where  he  remained  till  late  in  the 
autumn.  "  One  of  the  memorable  sights  in 
Paris  was  a  grand  review  of  the  veteran 
French  army,  on  its  return  from  the  Crimean 
war.  Of  one  regiment,  only  three  soldiers 
survived,  who  marched  in  their  places,  with 
wide  intervals,  indicating  by  the  vacant 
spaces  the  everlastingly  absent.  I  was  near 
the  emperor,  and  saw  the  tears  roll  down  his 
cheeks  at  the  pathetic  sight." 

"  After  the  leaves  had  fallen,  I  returned 
to  America.  My  last  absence  had  been 
nearly  four  years.  My  pleasant  wander- 
jahre  were  ended,  and  before  me  was  an  un- 
known future  of  toil." 


XII. 

Once  there  was  a  man  who  had  not  where 
to  lay  his  head.  He  was  a  wanderer  through 
many  lands,  all  his  life  long.  He  was 
a  pilgrim  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave. 
Many  lonely  years  went  by,  as  his  weary  feet 
pressed  upon  the  sands  of  time.  His  life 
was  one  long,  pathetic  story  of  one  who  loved 
home,  and  who  never  had  one.  He  was  the 
immortal  author  of  "  Home,  Sweet  Home." 

In  the  winter  of  1859,  Mr.  Wight  reached 
Boston,  and  in  a  few  days  went  on  to 
New  York.  Soon  after,  he  purchased  a 
house  in  First  Place,  Brooklyn.  In  this 
city  he  lived  during  the  rest  of  the  winter. 
When  spring  came  he  advertised  for  a  small 
cottage  situated  iu  the  country  near  New 
York.  He  received,  among  many  rej)lies, 
one  from  the  village  of  Rye,  on  the  border 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       103 

of  Long  Island  Sound.  On  visiting  the 
place,  he  found  that  the  cottage  suited  him. 
He  hired  it,  and  moved  there  for  the  summer. 
A  railroad  ran  through  the  village,  and  so  it 
was  easy  to  reach  from  the  city.  There  were 
many  pleasant  drives  about  the  country.  The 
air  was  invigorating,  and  the  soil  was  dry  and 
healthy.  The  salt-water  bathing  was  good, 
and  the  beach  was  not  far  away.  He  sold 
his  house  in  Brooklyn,  and  never  returned 
there  to  live.  His  idea  was  that  he  could 
take  care  of  his  ward  and  patient  with  more 
success  in.  the  country,  —  for  so  he  called 
her  who  had  been  united  to  him  by  the 
solemn  rites  of  the  church  as  his  wife,  and 
whom,  after  his  marriage,  he  had  found  to 
be  an  incurable  epileptic,  even  from  her 
earliest  infancy.  At  Rye  he  was  near  enough 
to  New  York  to  make  it  easy  for  him  to 
carry  forward  his  plans  in  regard  to  literary 
work. 

In  the  ages  past,  where  was  once  the 
stillness  of  the  sea,  and  where  at  a  later  time 
the  great  ice-river,  slowly,  silently,  and  with 


104       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

resistless  energy,  rolled  down  from  the  North- 
land to  meet  the  restless,  aggressive,  and  re- 
lentless tides  and  waves,  there  was  a  mighty- 
war  of  the  elements  ;  and  in  the  ages  that 
have  come  there  is  the  solid  land.  Now  the 
soft  arms  of  the  inner  sea  embrace  the  capes 
and  jutlands  along  the  tide- washed  shore, 
where  reigns  a  long  peace  for  the  advantage 
of  man.  This  shore,  "  lying  low,  "  was  once 
mantled  by  the  great  ice-river  that  came 
down  from  the  northern  ice-sea.  The 
ice-river,  "  making  no  haste,  taking  no  rest," 
on  its  way  to  the  prehistoric  sea,  wrote  the 
telluric  history  of  vanished  ages  upon  the 
rocks  and  boulders  that,  like  graven  tablets, 
lie  scattered  here  and  there  amidst  the  ruins 
of  the  past.  "  O  Earth !  what  changes 
thou  hast  seen !  "  Where  once  the  tides  in 
the  ancient  sea  and  the  ice-river,  like  mighty 
giants,  contended  for  the  mastery,  there  the 
earth,  weary  of  the  trouble,  rose  up  and 
vanquished  them  both.  All  along  this  low, 
rocky  shore  that  Long  Island  barricades 
from   the   turbulent   and   stormy   Atlantic, 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.        105 

miles  upon  miles  from  New  York,  are  built 
the  habitations  of  men.  For  the  most  part 
these  men  are  ignorant  of  the  wondrous 
history  written  in  the  soil  and  on  the  rocks 
upon  which  they  daily  tread.  What  matters 
this  to  them  ?  They  have  no  hunger,  no 
thirst,  for  such  food  and  drink.  How 
strangely  different  are  men  !  One  sees  in 
Nature  a  storehouse  full  of  grain  ;  another 
sees  a  soul,  speech,  music,  order,  and  ever- 
lasting motion. 

About  twenty -five  or  thirty  miles  from 
New  York,  where  the  telluric  forces  were 
busy  in  the  ages  past,  scooping  out  hollows 
for  rivulets  and  sea-arms,  and  heaping  up 
rocks  and  boulders  that  were  borne  down 
upon  the  great  ice-river,  is  located  the  pleas- 
ant village  of  Rye,  on  a  vale  which  runs 
along  to  the  tide-water.  There  the  ice-king 
came  down  the  frozen  river,  in  the  glacial 
ages,  and  brought  great  loads  of  grim,  graven 
rocks  and  boulders,  and  piled  them  up  in 
scattered  heaps ;  and  the  mighty  Norse  god 
came   along   with  him,  holding  his  mighty 

5* 


106       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

hammer  in  his  sinewy  hand,  and  smote  the 
rocks  into  pieces,  which  he  scattered  as  he 
pursued  his  journey.  In  the  fuUness  of 
time,  when  the  Norse  god  and  the  ice- 
king  went  away,  driven  before  the  headlong 
south  wind,  spring  and  summer  planted 
the  primeval  forest.  After  that,  as  time 
went  on,  man  cut  down  the  oak,  the  beech, 
and  the  maple,  and  cast  them  into  the  fire. 
Then  mother  Earth,  grieving  over  her  loss, 
evolved  from  her  mysterious  energies  the 
mournful  evergreen,  and  there  grew  the 
cedar. 

The  old  post-road  ran  along  in  front  of 
the  base  of  a  rocky  bank,  which  rose  abruptly 
some  twenty-five  or  more  feet,  overlooking 
the  setting  sun.  From  the  crest  of  this 
bank  the  rock-strewn  surface  sloped  gently 
toward  the  road  that  curved  to  the  border  of 
the  sound.  We  frequently  wandered  over 
this  wild  landscape,  and  talked  about  its  for- 
mation during  the  long  years  of  the  glacial 
age.  It  was  a  charming  place,  especially 
when  the  afternoon  sun  began  to  make  long 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       107 

shadows  with   the   evergreen   cedars.     One 
found   a   few  gray   old  fruit-trees,  covered 
with   hoary  moss,  bearing  scattered  leaves, 
which  vainly  tried  to  hide  bitter,  untempting 
apples,  one  sided,  rough,  and  rugged  as  the 
rocks  upon  which  they  fell.     The  first  rays 
of  the  rising  sun  played  through  the  trees 
and  over  the  rocks.       The  place  was  in  the 
midst  of  things,  and  yet  so  secluded  that  the 
passer-by  could  not  intrude.     It  was  almost 
a  solitude,  filled  with  the  wondrous  story  of 
the  past,  breathing  the  mysterious  spirit  of 
nature,  and  abounding  in  exquisite  scenery. 
Several  acres  of  this  rock-strewn,  cedar- 
covered  land  were  purchased.     A  few  rods 
from  the  bank  in  front,  which  overlooks  the 
highway,  on  a  level  place,  among  the  over- 
arching trees,  a  clearing  was  made,  the  soil 
removed,   and  a    cellar  blasted    in    the  ob- 
durate rock;    and  then  upon  a  firmly  laid 
foundation  a  beautiful  cottage   was    built. 
When  everything  had  been  completed,  at  the 
close  of  summer,  the  place  was  called  "  The 
Cedars."      The  place  was  such  as  a  man 


108       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

of  literary  tastes  and  ambition  would  select 
for  a  home.  A  library  and  study  looked  to- 
ward the  afternoon  sun  as  it  mingled  the 
shadows  of  the  rocks  and  cedars,  and  con- 
tained the  rare  volumes  and  fine  works  of 
art  collected  during  years  of  travel  in  other 
lands.  Here  he  renewed  his  literary  toil. 
He  had  studied  art,  literature,  society,  and 
government,  among  the  civilized  peoples  of 
the  world,  and  was  equipped  for  new  and 
important  work. 

He  arranged  and  edited  a  dozen  volumes, 
entitled  "  The  Home  Library,"  which  con- 
tained the  biographies  of  the  great  men  of 
the  world,  written  by  men  of  genius.  It 
was  in  the  scope  of  his  ambition  to  intro- 
duce into  the  homes  of  America  a  hio:her 
grade  of  reading-matter.  What  could  be 
more  suitable,  interesting,  and  instructive 
for  his  countrymen  and  their  children  to 
read,  than  the  lives  of  the  leading  men  of 
history,  penned  by  the  best  authors?  He 
would  try  to  supplant  the  sentimental  life 
of  the  hero  of  fiction  by  the  real  lives  of 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       109 

such  men  as  Washington,  Columbus,  Peter 
the  Great,  Charlemagne,  Julius  Csesar,  and 
Oliver  Cromwell.  To  these  volumes  he 
added  in  a  short  time  an  edition  of  more 
than  a  dozen  volumes  of  the  "  French  Clas- 
sics ;  "  the  famous  Riverside  edition  of  Ba- 
con's works  ;  the  novels  of  Dickens  —  the 
most  human  of  writers  of  romance ;  Mil- 
man's  great  work  on  Latin  Christianity ; 
the  essays  of  Thomas  Carlyle ;  the  miscel- 
lanies of  Lord  Macaulay ;  an  edition  of 
Hazlitt's  Montaigne  ;  translations  of  several 
of  the  works  of  Balzac  ;  a  translation  of 
Madame  De  Stael's  "  Germany."  In  the 
mean  time,  he  wrote  a  multitude  of  Keview 
Articles,  upon  various  vital  questions  of 
that  day. 

To  this  earthly  paradise,  where  nature  had 
been  prodigal  with  her  gifts,  and  where  man 
had  reshaped  nature,  he  took  his  ward  and 
patient,  who  was  his  wife  only  in  name,  and 
tried  to  establish  a  home.  It  was  a  foolish 
thing  to  endeavor  to  conceal  her  disease 
from  his  friends  and  the  world.      It   was 


110       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT, 

an  unmanly  pride  that  led  him  to  yield 
to  her  entreaties  that  he  would  be  silent. 
This,  like  all  untruth,  has  brought  its  ap- 
propriate reward.  Yet  it  must  be  kept 
in  mind  that  he  was  the  literary  man,  the 
philosophic  student,  who  at  that  time  had  no 
real  knowledge  of  physiology  and  disease, 
and  who,  with  all  the  force  of  a  poetic  im- 
agination, magnified  the  influence  of  mind 
and  soul  over  matter.  Perhaps  he  was 
not  entirely  without  hope  that  the  light 
might  yet  shine  upon  the  spirit  sitting  in 
darkness.  Although,  when  he  remembered 
that  she  had  been  an  epileptic  from  infancy, 
and  that  the  best  medical  skill  in  Europe 
had  failed  to  cure  her,  he  seemed  to  be  con- 
vinced that  it  no  longer  did  any  good  to 
hope  against  hope.  Added  to  his  great  lit- 
erary labors  was  the  difficult  task  of  caring 
for  her.  "  More  than  twenty  women,  old 
and  young,  were  tried  as  hired  nurses,  com- 
panions, or  housekeepers.  Not  one  of  them 
would  do.  Some  of  them  would  flee  from 
the  room  in  terror  when  my  patient  had  an 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       Ill 

attack.  Some  would  hold  up  their  hands 
in  hopeless  bewilderment.  Others  would  sit 
down  and  cry  with  that  natural  sympathy 
for  suffering  which  wells  up  from  woman's 
heart,  and  for  which  God  be  praised." 

In  an  incurable  epileptic,  there  is  dreamy 
indifference  to-day,  and  to-morrow  there  will 
be    tearful  despondency;    on  the  next  day 
great  perversity  of  motive  and  conduct  ap- 
pear; then  follow  increased  irritability  ac- 
companied by  illusions,  hallucinations,  and 
delusions.     Then  comes  the  fearful  attack 
which  has  given  the  disease  the  name  of  "  the 
fallino;  sickness."      After  these   hours  and 
days  of  depression  and  darkness,  the  unde- 
veloped or  impaired  faculties  emerge  into  a 
lio-ht  that  shines  with  a  little  more  clearness. 
In  the  days  and  hours  of  trouble  the  epilep- 
tic requires  constant  and  faithful   watching 
and  protection.     In  the  intervals,  when  rea- 
son assumes  control  to  some  extent,  company 
may  be  seen,  or  a  journey  undertaken,  but 
only  under  the  care  of  a  faithful  attendant. 
And  while  he  was  doino^  the  best  he  could 


112       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

under  the  trying  circumstances,  there  were 
people,  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  her  disease 
and  deficient  in  Christian  charity,  who  gra- 
tuitously attributed  her  moods,  her  sympa- 
thies, her  symptoms,  and  her  fearful  malady 
to  ill-treatment,  neglect,  and  cruelty. 

There  sit  the  solitary  hours  ;  there  rise 
the  healing  streams ;  there  moan  the  wan- 
dering winds ;  there  vanish  the  setting  suns, 
all  the  summer  long ;  and  the  destiny  of 
man  unfolds  itself  like  the  evolution  of  a 
flower  which  comes  and  goes,  rises  and 
falls,  to  silence  and  rest. 


XIII. 

Let  us  stop  for  a  moment  and  yiew  the 
spectacle  of  a  civil  war,  gigantic,  terrible, 
and  unrelenting,  carrying  affliction  and  sor- 
row to  millions  of  human  hearts.  Derang- 
ing the  plans  and  disappointing  the  hopes 
of  so  many,  it  changed  the  destiny  of  a 
gTeat  nation ;  it  conferred  freedom  on  a 
despised  race,  and  made  the  idea  of  lib- 
erty regnant  in  every  heart.  In  all  war 
there  are  ideas  contending  for  mastery. 
In  the  civil  war  universal  liberty  was  striv- 
ing against  slavery.  The  pregnant  say- 
ing in  the  sunny  South,  during  the  later 
years,  that  it  was  the  rich  man's  war  and 
the  poor  man's  fight,  probes  the  question 
deeply.  In  the  South,  there  was  the  white 
man  of  low  estate,  as  well  as  the  black 
man  in  bondage,  on  the  one  hand  ;  and  on 
the    other,  there    was    a   proud    and  dom- 


114       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

in  ant  aristocracy,  on  whose  banner  was  em- 
blazoned tlie  talismanic  name  —  Democracy. 
In  the  North  were  millions  of  freemen 
who  wanted  government  by  the  people  and 
for  the  people.  The  principles  of  self-gov- 
ernment, they  felt,  were  committed  to  their 
care  and  safe-keeping.  Human  liberty,  with 
all  that  it  meant  for  them  and  their  children, 
was  too  priceless  to  give  up  without  a  heroic 
struggle.  And  we  now  feel  that  all  the 
treasure  which  has  been  paid  and  all  the 
blood  which  has  been  shed  have  not  been 
paid  and  shed  in  vain.  To  guard  the  temple 
of  human  liberty  the  sons  of  the  Republic 
stood  with  a  wall  of  bayonets  against  the 
aggressive  hosts  of  the  slaveholders'  aris- 
tocracy. What  was  the  fight?  It  was  a 
mighty  struggle  of  the  people  against  an 
ambitious  aristocracy,  whose  purpose  and 
design  were  concealed  by  the  magic  name 
which  stood  for  popular  government.  It 
will  now  be  written  upon  the  page  of  his- 
tory that  the  people  came  off  victors,  —  but 
at  a  fearful  cost  of  blood  and  treasure  ;  that 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.       115 

the  heroic  efforts  of  the  brave  men  of  an 
unhappy  cause  ended  in  defeat  and  union  ; 
and  that  the  tide  of  human  advancement 
and  progress  was  not  turned  backward,  but 
that  it  will  flow  on  and  on,  for  all  time,  as 
we  fondly  hope,  bringing  peace,  prosperity, 
knowledge,  reverence,  liberty,  and  happi- 
ness into  millions  of  homes. 

At  the  time  the  civil  war  broke  out,  Mr. 
Wight  was  doing  business  with  five  pub- 
lishing firms ;  four  of  them  failed.  Lit- 
erature does  not  always  flourish  among  men 
who  take  to  destroying  each  other.  The 
man  who  goes  to  war  wants  powder  and  ball 
and  something  to  eat ;  he  does  not  take  to 
poetry  and  philosoph}^,  —  he  becomes  a  prac- 
tical realist.  The  result  was  that  The  Cedars 
had  to  be  sold  to  meet  pressing  obligations. 
That  which  had  been  called  home  must  be 
left  behind.  In  this  world  we  build  for 
others,  yet  in  more  ways  than  one  we  carry 
away  with  us  a  mental  picture  of  the  habita- 
tion we  build,  and  the  hand  of  change  rests 
on  this  picture,  too.     But  there  is  one  picture 


116       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

that  cannot  be  taken  away  from  us.  It  is 
like  the  masterpieces,  whose  form  and  color 
and  spirit  have  been  seized  by  genius  and 
spread  on  canvas.  The  best  points  of  a 
landscape  —  that  which  is  beautiful ;  that 
which  speaks,  as  if  with  a  voice ;  that  which 
makes  music  all  the  summer  long ;  that 
which  blends  with  living  motion  ;  that  which 
has  no  place  for  the  sentiment  of  decay ; 
that  which  sees  the  eternity  of  ceaseless  and 
silent  change  —  come  out  from  the  paint- 
ing to-day,  to-morrow,  and  every  other  day. 
And  we,  too,  have  that  which  defies  the  in- 
fluence and  23ower  of  change,  it  is  that  part 
of  us  which  comes  from  the  Eternal  —  and 
is  immortal. 

He  went,  perhaps  by  chance,  to  settle  at 
Carbondale,  in  a  beautiful  upland  valley  in 
Pennsylvania,  one  that  reminds  us  of  the 
famous  valley  of  Wyoming.  The  home 
there  was  called  Brookside,  and  may  be  de- 
scribed by  extracts  from  his  letters  :  — 

"  The  climate  is  superb.  This  upland  val- 
ley is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  one  of 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT,       117 

the  most  healtliy  in  the  world.  The  air  is 
perfect  bahn  to  my  semi-rheumatic  nature, 
and  I  have  been  nowhere  in  America  so  well 
as  here. 

"  The  place  altogether  surpasses  my  ex- 
pectations. There  is  wealth,  intelligence, 
and  refinement  in  the  town,  accompanied  by 
a  real  inland  simplicity  of  manner,  and  a 
much  higher  moral  tone  than  that  of  the 
great  cities.  Our  neighbors  are  perfect,  as 
neighbors  —  friendly,  unofficious,  right-in- 
tentioned,  well-behaved,  and  not  selfish.  I 
have  no  fear  of  their  trying  to  steal  my 
house  and  lands. 

"My  house  here  is  really  beautiful  and 
convenient.  It  is  a  good  deal  better  in  every 
way  than  the  Rye  house.  There  are  ten 
acres  of  lawn  about  the  house  filled  with  fine 
orchard.  I  have  been  repainting  the  house, 
fixing  plumbing,  and  laying  down  sixty  rods 
of  iron  pipe,  bringing  a  spring  brook  to  the 
house.  I  have  been  trouting  twice  with  em- 
inent success.  Trout  are  good  and  cheap, 
and  life  is  pleasant  here." 


118       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.    WIGHT. 

He  lets  tlie  unchangeable  past  take  care 
of  itself.  Regret,  like  remorse,  eats  into  the 
heart  and  soul.  And  so  he  looks  forward. 
Satisfied  and  delighted  with  his  new  home, 
he  names  it  "  Brookside."  His  restless  spirit 
goes  to  work  again. 

"  All  things  have  rest  ;  why  should  we  toil  alone, 
We  only  toil  who  are  the  first  of  things." 

The  following  extracts  from  his  letters  will 
show  what  he  was  doing  about  this  time  :  — 

"  I  am  working  very  hard  on  Martin's 
"  History  of  France."  I  am  to  have  one  vol- 
ume ready  for  the  press  by  January  1st. 
The  whole  work  is  in  seventeen  volumes,  the 
greatest  historic  work  of  our  times.  The 
author  has  labored  on  it  for  thirty  years.  It 
is  not  very  easy  to  translate,  and  the  amount 
of  matter  is  immense. 

"  We  have  fought  the  great  fight  of  the 
war  here  in  Pennsylvania.  I  was  on  the 
stump  during  the  canvass,  and  have  made 
myself  a  name  in  this  whole  region.  It  was 
a  hard  battle,  and  the  consequences  of  the 
victory  are  immense." 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       119 

This  refers  to  tlie  campaign  for  the  re- 
election of  Abraham  Lincoln.  The  great 
and  pathetic  personification  of  the  toiling 
masses,  his  great  heart  beat  in  every 
word  of  his  passionate  appeal  to  the  men 
of  the  South :  "  We  are  not  enemies,  but 
friends.  We  must  not  be  enemies.  Though 
passion  may  have  strained,  it  must  not  break 
our  bonds  of  affection.  The  mystic  chords 
of  memory,  stretching  from  every  battlefield 
and  patriot-grave  to  every  living  heart  and 
hearthstone  all  over  this  broad  land,  will  yet 
swell  the  chorus  of  the  Union  when  again 
touched,  as  they  surely  will  be,  by  the  better 
angels  of  our  nature." 

Mr.  Wight  had  read  medicine  in  a  gen- 
eral way,  as  one  reads  literature  and  history, 
for  the  purpose  of  acquiring  knowledge. 
This  was  part  of  his  purpose  to  become  mas- 
ter of  human  knowledge,  for  he  was  ambi- 
tious to  be  learned  in  all  things.  At  this 
time  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  would  com- 
plete his  medical  education.  Then  he  could 
apply  his  knowledge  to  practical  use,  for  the 


120       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

benefit  of  others,  and  for  the  advantage  of 
himself.  In  1864  he  went  to  New  York,  and 
attended  a  course  of  lectures  at  the  College 
of  Physicians  and  Surgeons,  one  of  the  fa- 
mous medical  schools  in  America.  In  the 
following  year  he  attended  another  course 
of  lectures  at  the  Long  Island  College  Hos- 
pital, which  had  been  instrumental  in  intro- 
ducing improved  methods  of  clinical  instruc- 
tion. At  this  school,  which  is  located  in  the 
city  of  Brooklyn,  he  received  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Medicine,  in  1865. 

He  returned  to  Carbondale,  and  began  the 
practice  of  his  profession,  and  was  successful 
from  the  outset.  He  was  a  nurse,  as  well  as 
a  physician,  for  he  had  been  trained  in  a 
school  where  duty  and  pity  dominated  the 
heart.  What  office  is  greater  than  that  per- 
formed by  the  magnanimous  and  sympathetic 
physician  ?  To  help  when  help  we  can,  to 
soothe  and  comfort  when  there  is  no  hope, 
make  the  highest  duty  of  man  to  man. 

To  practice  medicine,  to  make  books,  or 
to  "  take  the  stump  "  is  easy  enough  for  an 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       121 

aspiring  and  vigorous  nature,  but  add  to  this 
a  great  sorrow  and  a  consuming  care,  and 
we  need  not  be  surprised  to  hear  a  complaint. 
We  make  extracts  from  letters  :  — 

"  It  has  become  impossible  to  take  care  of 
my  '  charge '  any  longer  in  a  domestic  way. 
The  asylum  is  the  proper  place  for  her.  The 
insanity  springing  from  her  disease  is  becom- 
ing more  and  more  manifest ;  it  is  more  and 
more  troublesome  to  take  care  of  her ;  in 
short,  it  is  a  moral  impossibility  to  solve  the 
tough  problem  in  any  other  way. 

"  It  is  a  sad  necessity,  but  I  see  no  help 
for  it.  It  is  a  burden  that  I  have  borne  for 
a  dozen  years  with  a  moral  heroism  no  mor- 
tal has  any  means  of  knowing ;  but  I  cannot 
bear  it  longer  —  it  would  kill  me,  and 
then  she  would  have  to  be  placed  in  an 
asylum  under  less  favorable  circumstances 
and  with  less  care." 

There  was  a  correspondence  in  regard  to 
this  matter,  with  a  view  to  placing  the  unfor- 
tunate in  the  care  of  a  good  asylum.  Some 
letters  written  by  the  author,  partly  from  a 
6J 


122       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

professional  standpoint,  partly  witli  kind 
suggestions,  and  partly  with  gentle  admoni- 
tions, had  such  an  effect  as  to  make  her 
more  manageable  during  her  lucid  moments. 
Again  he  wrote :  — 

"  My  friends,  coming  to  know  the  situation, 
advised  an  asylum.  My  heart  revolted 
against  that,  and  it  still  revolts  against  it, 
although  I  have  had,  for  a  long  time,  an 
arrangement  with  a  noble  friend  of  mine, 
the  honored  head  of  a  New  England  asylum, 
to  care  for  her,  in  case  of  my  death  or  some 
imperative  necessity."  Then  adds  :  "  I  shall 
care  for  her  as  long  as  it  is  possible." 

He  had  made  the  mystic  journey  of  the 
East,  visiting  many  lands.  Then  he  had 
crossed  the  storm-troubled  Atlantic.  After 
that  he  built  a  home  among  the  cedars.  He 
left  the  evergreens  and  they  shall  know  him 
no  more.  He  looks  toward  the  setting  sun, 
and  finds  a  new  home  in  one  of  the  upland 
valleys  of  Pennsylvania.  Then  he  leaves 
that  too,  never  to  return.  Indeed,  there 
is  nothing  in  this  world  more  eternal  than 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       123 

change.  He  now  turns  his  face  again  to- 
wards the  West.  Even  yet  he  clings  to  her 
whom  he  had  years  before  made  the  idol 
of  his  heart.  She  cannot  make  him  happy, 
and  without  her  he  is  miserable.  Would 
that  we  could  cure  the  incurable !  Would 
that  Fate  might  retrieve  the  unhappy  dis- 
aster ! 

"  The  hills  are  shadows  and  they  flow 

From  form  to  form,  and  nothmg  stands  ; 
They  melt  like  mist,  the  solid  lands. 
Like  clouds  they  shape  themselves  and  go." 

"  I  would  not  let  one  cry 
Whom  I  could  save  !     How  can  it  be  that  Brahm 
Would  make  a  world  and  keep  it  miserable, 
Since,  if  all-powerful,  he  leaves  it  so, 
He  is  not  good,  and  if  not  powerful. 
He  is  not  God  ?  .  .  . 
.  .  .  Mine  eyes  have  seen  enough  ! " 


XIV. 

When  we  write  history,  we  must  write 
the  truth ;  we  may  not  write  things  as  we 
wish  them  to  be  ;  we  may  not  conceal  things 
that  are  essential ;  we  must  relate  what  has 
been,  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  way  that 
it  occurred.  It  is  just  so  with  biography. 
We  may  not  omit  important  facts  and  events ; 
for  it  may  happen  that  what  we  could 
wish  to  be  otherwise  may  indeed  be  that 
which  is  most  essential.  Sometimes  it  hap- 
pens that  the  better  part  of  our  nature  is 
brought  out  in  what  we  deem  to  be  our 
calamities,  and  that  our  misfortunes  which 
we  shrink  from  show  us  to  best  advantage, 
although  we  could  wish  that  they  had  not 
come  to  us.  In  order  that  the  meaning  of 
the  evidence  may  not  be  changed,  as  it  re- 
lates to  certain  facts,  it  is   given  in    such 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       125 

form  as  to  make  it  more  like  autobiography. 
This  evidence  is  made  up  of  extracts  from 
letters,  as  well  as  matter  written  for  the 
press. 

"  At  length,  from  a  respectable  family 
that  had  known  me  from  my  youth,  came, 
half  a  dozen  years  ago,  a  good  lady,  edu- 
cated, intelligent,  refined,  to  spend  the  sum- 
mer with  us.  She  at  once  showed  herself 
capable  of  taking  care  of  my  incurable  epi- 
leptic patient  in  an  efficient  and  friendly 
manner.  She  won  the  confidence  and  sym- 
pathy of  my  poor  child,  and  won  my  ever- 
lasting gratitude. 

"  An  efficient  friend  could  not  always 
remain  with  us.  My  nominal  wife,  my 
epileptic  ward,  could  not  bear  to  part  with 
her  '  Aunt  Kate,'  as  she  familiarly  and 
affectionately  called  her.  A  recurrence  to 
the  old  method  of  housekeeping  was  an  im- 
possibility. Boarding  was  attended  with  the 
same  difficulties.  Two  persons  were  neces- 
sary for  the  care  of  an  epileptic  who  could 
never  be  left  safely  alone,  except  for  some 
hours  on  particular  days. 


126       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

"  A  new  jDlan  was  proposed  by  my  patient 
herself ;  at  first  in  jest,  then  in  earnest. 
The  nominal  tie  between  us  should  be  sev- 
ered, and  then  she  might  have  two,  instead 
of  one,  to  take  care  of  her.  It  will  be  said 
that  no  wife  could  make  such  a  proposition. 
Verily,  no  wife  could.  Let  it  be  remem- 
bered that  she  was  wife  only  in  name  ;  in 
reality,  adopted  child.  She  had  come  to 
regard  it  as  religiously  wrong  to  think  of 
fulfilling  the  relations  of  wife,  in  her  con- 
dition. She  ardently  desired  to  be  released 
from  the  responsibilities  of  a  station  she 
could  not  fill.  When  asked  by  me  —  with 
the  ulterior  object  of  divorce  in  view  —  to 
assume  the  place  required  of  her  by  the 
esteemed  bond  of  our  union,  she  revolted,  and 
remained  extremely  unhappy  till  she  discov- 
ered my  true  meaning.  A  simple  attestation 
of  this  attitude  on  her  part  satisfied  the 
letter  of  the  law.  There  was  no  witness 
against  her,  except  in  the  technical  sense  of 
the  courts.  The  testimony,  as  seen  from 
this  point  of  view  of  our  real  life,  was  for 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       127 

her,  and  as  slie  wished  it.  The  truth,  the 
whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  was 
told  by  the  only  one  who  had  the  secret  of 
our  hearts.  That  truth  satisfied  the  law's 
letter,  while  its  just  and  pure  spirit  was  sat- 
isfied by  the  purity  and  justice  of  our  aims. 
"  In  order,  however,  to  satisfy  some  scru- 
ples of  conscience,  we  made  a  first  attempt 
to  procure  a  divorce  on  the  naked  merits  of 
the  case,  under  that  clause  in  the  Indiana 
law  giving  the  judge  power  to  release  from 
the  bonds  of  matrimony  when,  in  his  opinion, 
it  is  best  for  all  parties  concerned.  The 
cause  of  our  failure  is  not  a  matter  of  public 
interest.  We  succeeded  elsewhere.  Two 
months  after  the  divorce  was  procured  I 
married  again.  The  divorced  wife  stood  by 
our  side  with  her  attorney  during  the  cere- 
mony, to  signify  her  approbation  in  the 
strongest  manner.  The  marriage  was  pri- 
vate, in  our  own  rooms.  As  the  clergyman 
pronounced  the  last  words  of  the  service,  she 
said,  in  a  clear,  firm  tone :  '  It  is  all  just 
as  I  want  it.'     The  marriage  was  solemnized 


128       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

in  the  presence  of  a  dozen  Christian  men 
and  women,  representatives  of  some  of  the 
best  families  in  the  city,  who  would  not  have 
sanctioned  an  iniquitous  thing.  The  clergy- 
man, pastor  of  one  of  the  leading  churches 
in  the  place,  who  performed  the  ceremony, 
had  lived  in  rooms  adjoining  ours  all  winter, 
and  knew  us  well. 

"  At  the  close  of  the  ceremony,  myself 
and  wife  adoj^ted  the  former  wife  in  the  most 
solemn  religious  manner,  promising  to  keep 
her  with  us,  to  care  for  her,  cherish,  and 
support  her  as  long  as  she  is  spared  to  us, 
as  we  hope  for  mercy  at  the  judgment  seat. 
That  adoption  is  in  the  form  of  a  document, 
signed  by  us,  witnessed  by  those  present  at 
the  ceremony,  and  left  in  the  hands  of  a 
distinguished  clergyman,  open  at  all  times 
to  right-minded  persons  for  inspection.  Be- 
fore our  marriage  we  signed  legal  bonds, 
binding  ourselves  in  heavy  penalties,  to  the 
same  effect.  These  bonds  are  in  the  hands 
of  her  attorney,  where  they  will  remain,  and 
may  be  seen  by  properly-intentioned  people. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.       129 

"  All  these  details  are  painful  to  me  in 
the  extreme,  but  the  wide  circulation  given 
by  respectable  journals  to  the  attack  leaves 
me  no  alternative.  In  Christian  charity  I 
•  have  been  willing  to  believe  that  sympathy 
for  an  afflicted,  helpless  woman,  that  indig- 
nation for  her  supposed  wrongs,  were  motives 
of  the  writer  of  that  article.  Whoever  you 
are  that  wrote  it,  I  assure  you,  in  the  blessed 
spirit  of  forgiveness,  that  your  sympathy 
seems  to  its  unfortunate  object  but  an  im- 
pertinent mockery.  In  her  disease,  which 
has  been  laid  upon  her,  perhaps  the  heaviest 
physical  calamity  of  mortal  life,  she  is  sur- 
rounded with  tried  affection  in  those  who 
have  cheerfully  suffered,  and  will  continue 
cheerfully  to  suffer  for  her  sake,  and  she 
begs,  for  the  dear  Redeemer's  sake,  to  be 
spared  the  meddlesomeness  of  those  who  are 
strangers,  and  necessarily  must  be  strangers, 
to  our  inner  life. 

"  Thus,  with  the  Maker  of  heaven  and 
earth  looking  into  my  heart,  have  I  written 
the  simple  truth  in  regard  to  this  matter. 

G* 


130       MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

If  the  world,  with  exact  knowledge  of  the 
facts,  blames  me,  I  shall  bear  it  meekly, 
hopefully.  ^ 

"  My  poor  child  is  more  than  satisfied. 
She  is  positively  happy  about  the  arrange- 
ment. I  have  taken  the  only  course  possible 
whereby  I  could  longer  stand  between  her 
and  a  perpetual  asylum.  I  thank  God  for 
a  noble-hearted,  self-sacrificing  woman  to 
share  my  burden  with  me. 

"  Besides,  my  defense  brings  me  by  every 
mail  letters  from  some  of  the  noblest  men 
and  women  in  the  land,  all  of  them  express- 
ing sympathy,  many  of  them  making  offers 
of  service. 

"  Many  good  men  and  women  are,  at  the 
present  time,  intimate  with  the  family,  and 
cheerfully  testify  that  she  is  tenderly  cared 
for,  and  is  as  happy  as  her  physical  condition 
will  permit.  Wise  neighboring  women,  who 
are  intimate  with  the  household,  declare 
truly  that  she  has  never  mentally  developed 
out  of  childhood  into  womanhood,  and  has 
no  conception  of  what  a  wifes  love  for  a 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       131 

husband  means.  Those  who  know  the 
parties  best  give  them  credit  for  Christian 
virtue  and  goodness. 

"  Fortunately,  however,  the  greater  num- 
ber of  households  are  still  sanctuaries  of  pure 
affection,  homes  of  domestic  virtue,  nurseries 
of  patriotism,  shrines  of  morality,  fountains 
of  chastity.  Most  married  pairs  cannot  com- 
prehend why  people  should  wish  to  be  di- 
vorced. Their  greatest  happiness  is  in  their 
union  ;  no  unhappiness  would  be  so  great  to 
them  as  separation.  They  toil  on  patiently 
amid  the  storms  and  trials  of  life,  comforted 
by  an  affection  as  constant  as  the  throbbing 
of  the  heart.  The  benediction  of  heaven  is 
on  their  labors,  and  the  prattle  of  children 
by  the  hearthstone  is  music  to  them  sweeter 
than  the  symphonies  of  Beethoven]or  Mozart, 
more  sacred  than  the  Stabat  Mater  or  the 
Miserere.  The  rewards  of  obedience  to  the 
Almighty  are  great,  even  in  this  world. 

'"In  the  Christian  family,'  to  use  the 
beautiful  language  of  Clement  of  Alexan- 
dria, '  the  mother  is  the  glory  of  the  chil- 
dren, the  wife  is  the  glory  of  her  husband, 


132       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

both  are  the  glory  of  the  wife,  God  is  the 
giory  of  all  together.'  '  How  can  I  paint,' 
says  Tertullian,  'the  happiness  of  a  mar- 
riage which  the  church  ratifies,  .  .  .  the  ben- 
ediction seals,  angels  announce,  the  Father 
declares  valid  ?  .  .  .  What  a  union  of  two 
believers,  one  hope,  one  vow,  one  discipline, 
and  one  worship !  .  .  .  They  pray  together, 
fast  together,  instruct,  exhort,  and  support 
each  other.  They  go  together  to  the  church 
of  God,  and  to  the  table  of  the  Lord.  They 
share  each  other's  tribulations  and  persecu- 
tions. Neither  conceals  anything  from  the 
other;  neither  avoids,  neither  annoys  the 
other.  They  delight  to  visit  the  sick,  supply 
the  needy,  give  alms  without  constraint,  and 
in  daily  zeal  lay  their  offerings  before  the 
altar  without  scruple  or  hindrance.  .  .  . 
Psalms  and  hymns  they  sing  together,  and 
they  vie  with  each  other  in  praising  God. 
Christ  rejoices  when  He  sees  and  hears  this. 
He  gives  them  his  peace.  When  two  are 
together  in  his  name,  there  is  He ;  and 
where  He  is,  there  the  Evil  One  cannot 
come.' " 


XV. 

After  long,  toilsome,  and  weary  years, 
with  their  experience,  success,  and  disap- 
pointment, from  the  time  he  set  out  homeless 
to  make  his  way  in  the  world,  animated  with 
pure  motives  and  dominated  by  high  re- 
solves, manfully  contending  against  the  blows 
of  fortune,  seeking  the  association  of  the 
learned,  longing  for  the  company  of  the  wise, 
needing  the  presence  of  gifted  minds,  wan- 
dering through  the  mystic  lands  of  the  East, 
awaiting  a  destiny  commensurate  with  his 
ambition,  tossed  by  the  storms  of  a  varied 
life,  gaining  the  approval  ol  noble  souls, 
calumniated  by  the  ignorant  and  unthink- 
ing, trying  to  build  for  himself  a  home,  turn- 
ing with  mournful  courage  toward  the  past, 
looking  into  the  unknown  future  with  hope 
and  faith,  solving  rightly  and  well,  as  he 


134       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

thought  and  believed,  the  "  tough  problem  " 
of  his  destiny,  he  would  now  dwell  under  his 
own  vine  and  fig  tree. 

Only  memories  would  now  cluster  around 
Brookside.  It  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  He 
went  to  New  Albany,  Indiana,  where  he  re- 
mained a  time  with  a  few  faithful  friends. 
Thence,  in  the  year  1867,  he  went  to  Ocono- 
mowoc,  Wisconsin,  and  there  settled,  as  he 
hoj)ed  and  supposed,  away  from  the  turmoil 
and  strife  of  the  world.  There  he  began 
again  the  practice  of  his  profession.  Rest 
and  relief  had  not  yet  come.  Outrageous 
fortune  would  not  be  appeased.  He  was 
pursued  by  invisible  enemies,  and  open  hos- 
tility met  him  at  every  step.  A  man  of  less 
strength  and  courage  would  have  gone  down 
under  the  weight  of  calumny,  and  one  who 
had  not  the  sense  of  being  right  would  have 
retreated,  when  so  many  had  it  in  their 
hearts  to  condemn. 

He  had  been  confirmed  at  New  Albany  by 
Bishop  Talbot.  He  and  his  wife  attended 
church   at  Oconomowoc,  and  both  went  to 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       135 

the  communion.  Some  objections  were  raised, 
and  the  matter  was  referred  to  good  Bishop 
Kemper,  of  Wisconsin.  He  said  that  he  had 
no  ohjection.  The  Eector,  Rev.  Ezra  Jones, 
was  a  true,  firm,  and  noble  friend.  His 
good  wife,  when  a  widow,  writing  to  her 
husband's  brother  long  years  after,  said : 
"  And  so  Dr.  Wight  is  gone,  at  rest  at  last, 
after  a  very  varied  life.  Your  brother  was 
a  true  friend  to  him  when  most  others  con- 
demned. That  he  was  a  good  man,  I  never 
doubted."  What  a  blessed  thing  true  and 
tried  friendship  is  in  this  world ;  not  that 
which  comes  from  the  thunders  of  Sinai,  but 
that  which  springs  from  the  benedictions  of 
Bethlehem. 

The  character  of  this  friend  is  indicated 
by  an  episode  in  his  life.  Born  in  New 
Hampshire,  educated  at  Vermont  University, 
prepared  for  the  ministry  in  New  York  city, 
and  a  missionary  in  Minnesota,  he  became 
rector  of  an  aristocratic  country  parish  in 
South  Carolina.  After  the  election  of  Mr. 
Lincoln,  the  spirit  of  sectional  feeling  was  so 


136       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

intense  that  he  was  warned  to  leave  the 
South,  since  he  announced  that  he  was  for  the 
Union.  "  Such  was  the  state  of  feeling  then 
in  South  Carolina  that  some  of  his  parish- 
ioners who  connived  at  his  escape  incurred 
danger  of  violence  from  more  ferocious 
neighbors  on  account  of  their  humane  act. 
He  sent  away  his  wife  with  a  babe  in  her 
arms,  and  three  or  four  small  children  by 
her  side,  on  the  train  for  Louisville.  He 
and  his  Southern  friends  judged  that  they 
would  be  safer  without  him  than  with  him. 
Leaving  his  furniture  and  his  books  behind 
him,  he  started  off  alone,  and  after  a  long 
and  weary  journey  through  the  mountains, 
found  his  way  to  the  uprising  North.  He 
never  would  relate,  even  to  his  most  intimate 
friends,  all  the  incidents  of  that  journey. 
Separated  from  his  wife  and  babes,  not 
knowing  whether  he  should  behold  them 
again  in  this  world,  hunted  by  men  madly 
thirsting  for  the  blood  of  their  Northern 
brethren,  footsore,  discouraged,  anxious  for 
his  country,  half  broken-hearted,  he  strug- 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       137 

gled  forward  amid  the  wild  preparations  for 
civil  war,  protected  —  again  to  use  his  own 
reverent  phrase  —  by  the  good  Lord.  At 
length  he  had  the  happiness  of  again 
meeting  his  family  in  Vermont.  In  the 
perils  and  hardships  of  that  escape  from 
South  Carolina  a  delicate  constitution  re- 
ceived so  rude  a  shock  that  he  never  fully 
recovered  from  its  effects.  Subsequently  he 
settled  in  the  beautiful  village  of  Oconomo- 
woc,  in  this  State.  The  war  ended  as  he 
had  foretold  to  the  hotspurs  of  his  South 
Carolina  parish,  with  disaster  to  them. 
Many  of  them  perished  on  the  field  of  battle. 
The  collapse  of  the  rebellion  left  their  wid- 
ows and  orphans  in  poverty.  Again  and 
again  has  that  good  minister,  scarcely  letting 
his  left  hand  know  what  his  right  hand  did, 
sent  back  from  his  scanty  earnings  aid  to 
the  poor  of  his  old  Southern  parish ;  poor 
now,  affluent  before  the  war.  Individuals 
there  who  took  part  in  driving  him  away  on 
account  of  his  Union  sentiments  have,  since 
the  close  of  the  rebellion,  written  him,  in  an- 


138       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

swer  to  his  charity,  letters  o£  gratitude  and 
repentance  that  would  melt  the  heart  of  a 
stone." 

"  I  was  sick  and  ye  visited  me.  Inasmuch 
as  ye  have  done  it  to  the  least  of  these, 
ye  have  done  it  unto  me."  Heaven  only 
knows  how  many  good  deeds  are  recorded 
elsewhere,  that  are  not  written  here.  How 
wonderful  will  be  the  reading  on  the  pages, 
when  the  great  book  of  Christian  altruism 
shall  be  opened  !  It  will  disclose  an  epic 
greater  than  any  ever  yet  written  by  man. 
It  will  call  forth  an  anthem  more  pathetic 
than  any  ever  heard  by  mortal  ears.  It  will 
invoke  a  laudamus  incomparably  above  all 
that  it  has  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to 
conceive.  When  sickness  and  injury  enter 
the  hut  or  palace,  the  physician  goes  with 
an  "equal  foot"  and  knocks  at  the  door  of 
both,  to  bring  such  aid  as  men  can  to  those 
who  are  in  need,  and  shrinks  not  from  con- 
tagion, or  pestilence,  or  sudden  danger ; 
magnanimous,  faithful,  altruistic,  he  performs 
an  immortal  work,  as  he  visits  the  least  of 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       139 

the  sons  of  man.  The  deep  shadows  of  the 
night  fall  over  his  way ;  the  winds  sing  or 
moan  among  the  leaves  as  he  passes ;  the 
storm  beats  upon  him  without  pity ;  the  un- 
feeling cold  benumbs  the  fibres  of  his  body ; 
the  silent  stars  keep  watch  above  his  head, 
and  then  he  goes  into  the  very  presence  of 
pain  and  grief,  his  deed  being  twice  blessed 
if  he  can  heal  them  both,  and  his  work  re- 
ceiving a  benediction  when  he  cannot  cure. 
He  stands  side  by  side  with  that  other  doctor 
who  ministers  to  the  pain  and  grief  of  the 
mind  and  soul. 

Dr.  O.  W.  Wight  undertook  the  arduous 
duties  of  a  country  practice,  going  at  all 
times,  day  and  night,  in  sunshine  and  in 
storm,  to  succor  and  relieve  the  sick  and 
wounded.  Those  who  had  been  injured  or 
were  sick  appealed  to  his  sympathy.  There 
was  sure  to  be  a  cheerful  response.  In  the 
sick-room  he  was  always  welcome.  It  was 
a  blessed  thing  for  him  to  aid  and  help 
others.  He  inspired  confidence  and  hope, 
and  when  hope  fled,  there  was  left  a  feeling 


140       MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

that  no  one  could  do  more.  He  had  an  ex- 
cellent measure  of  success,  all  that  any  one 
could  have  there.  He  had  the  success  which 
comes  to  the  true  physician,  which  is  not 
measured  by  gain,  but  that  which  comes  to 
the  good  and  faithful  servant.  He  was  a 
great  worker,  and  work  for  him  was  worship. 
In  this  way  he  sought  the  evolution  of  his 
mind  and  soul,  and  he  seemed  to  be  the 
same  cheerful  and  hopeful  person  after  he 
had  been  assailed  by  the  slings  and  arrows 
of  fortune. 

The  days  were  again  tranquil.  He  had 
left  the  stormy  sea.  It  was  pleasant  to  be 
near  the  borders  of  the  lakes  of  Wisconsin. 
Memory  ran  back  to  the  lakes  of  the  English 
poets,  and  recalled  the  vision  of  Lake  Erie. 
Then  toil  for  the  good  of  others  threw  for- 
getfulness  over  the  painful  memories  of  the 
past.  It  seemed  as  if  life  was  new  again. 
As  he  has  left  the  impression,  —  perhaps 
almost  a  story,  a  kind  of  tradition, —  one 
can  see  him  standing  on  the  bridge  which 
spans  the  clear  water  falling  into  the  little 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       141 

lake.  He  seems  to  be  thinking  of  his  mystic 
journey  in  the  East  and  combining  its  visions 
with  the  pictures  of  the  newer  West. 

"  Hence,  iu  a  season  of  calm  weather, 

Though  inland  far  we  be, 
Our  souls  have  a  sight  of  that  immortal  sea 

Which  brought  us  hither, 

Can  in  a  moment  travel  thither  ; 
And  see  the  children  sport  upon  the  shore, 
And  hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore^ 

"  And  I  have  felt 
A  presence  which  disturbs  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts  ;  a  sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interposed, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean,  and  the  living  air, 
And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man  ; 
A  motion,  and  a  spirit,  that  impels 
All  thinking  things,  all  objects  of  all  thoughts, 
And  rolls  throug-h  all  thing's." 

Time  goes  on.  It  is  going  on  always. 
Space  expands.  It  expands  everywhere. 
Time's  on-going  cannot  cease.  Space  can- 
not limit  its  expansion.  Yesterday  becomes 
to-day,  and  to-day  will  have  another  shape 


142       MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

to-morrow.     We  are  here  to-day,  and  will 

be  somewhere  else  to-morrow ;    and  so  we 

move  in  the  abyss  of  endless  expansion.    As 

it  were,  we  are  on  a  ship  which  sails  upon 

the  great  sea  of  life.     This  sea  is  fathomless 

everywhere,  and  boundless  on  every  hand. 

Now  comes  the  storm.      After  that  we  have 

the  calm,  and  even  then  "  the  waters  heave 

around  us,"  and  we  may  hold  it  good  to  love 

the  tranquil  places  betwixt  the  storms,  and 

drink   in   all  their  delights.     Yet  we   may 

hold  it  well,  perhaps,  to  dread  the  storms, 

and  shrink  from  their  embrace.      But  with 

Him  whose  blessed  feet  walked  upon   the 

troubled  sea,  we  may  have  no  fear. 

In  Palestine,  on  the  main  road  to  Hebron, 

a  small  town  of  great  antiquity  is  situated 

upon  a  limestone  ridge.     The  name  of  this 

town  is  Bethlehem,  or  the  House  of  Bread. 

Of  this  place  Shakespeare  sang  :  — 

"  Over  whose  acres  walked  those  blessed  feet 
Which  fourteen  hundred  years  ago  were  nailed 
For  our  advantage  on  the  bitter  cross." 

In  later  years,  a  Bethlehem  in  the  sub- 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       143 

urbs  of  old  London  was  seized  and  made 
a  prison  for  the  unfortunate  who  had  "  lost 
their  reason,"  and  the  beautiful  word  "  Beth- 
lehem "  was  crushed  into  the  madman's  word 
"  Bedlam."  Ah !  which  shall  it  be,  Bed- 
lam, or  Bethlehem  ?  She  had  been  his  be- 
trothed ;  she  had  been  his  wife ;  she  was 
his  patient ;  she  was  his  ward ;  she  was  his 
child ;  she  was  his  sister.  She  was  unfor- 
tunate ;  she  became  more  and  more  un- 
fortunate ;  she  can  no  longer  live  with  the 
world ;  she  may  not  see  the  madman's  Bed- 
lam ;  she  may  go  to  Bethlehem.  Thither, 
after  all  these  long  years,  he  takes  his 
adopted  daughter,  —  only  those  who  knew 
him  well  could  tell  how  kindly  and  with 
what  tearless  grief,  —  and  leaves  her  in  care 
of  the  blessed  sisters. 

Soon  after  there  came  the  brief  announce- 
ment, —  My  w  if e  is  at  rest.  He  laid  her  at 
rest  with  his  children,  for  they  had  also  gone. 
He  sold  out  everything,  and  owed  no  man 
anything.  He  was  again  homeless.  He 
had  only  one  friend  left,  —  his  pet  dog,  — 


144       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

linking  him  to  those  he  loved  and  who  had 
departed. 

"  Should  the  whole  frame  of  earth  by  mward  throes 
Be  wrenched,  or  fire  come  down  from  far  to  scorch 
Her  pleasant  habitations,  and  dry  up 
Old  ocean,  in  his  bed  left  singed  and  bare, 
^    Yet  would  the  living  Presence  still  subsist." 


XVI. 

Late  in  the  autumn  of  1871,  O.  W. 
Wight  went  to  Brooklyn,  where  he  remained 
during  the  winter,  with  his  brother,  J.  S. 
Wight,  and  where  he  secured  needed  rest 
and  recuperation.  He  had  given  up  his 
practice  at  Oconomowoc,  and  was  again 
homeless  ;  and  yet  he  was  looking  forward, 
in  the  same  hopeful,  cheerful  way,  as  ever. 
At  the  same  time  he  seemed  to  feel  that  he 
had  received  a  severe  blow,  that  he  had  suf- 
fered a  great  calamity,  that  it  was  cruel  to 
take  away  from  him  everything  in  this  world 
he  held  dear.  But  his  thoughts  were  busy 
with  problems  relating  to  the  great  North- 
west, and  he  took  more  than  a  passing  inter- 
est in  its  affairs.  He  had  faith  in  its  re- 
sources and  possibilities,  as  well  as  the  men 
who  had  gone  there  to  live.  He  looked  upon 
7 


146       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

these  men  as  having  industry,  enterprise, 
ambition,  and  personal  liberty.  The  broad 
acres  of  fertile  sea-girt  lands  were  sustaining 
a  people  who  had  faith  in  themselves  and 
hope  in  the  future.  The  well  to-do  New 
Englander,  the  toiling  Scandinavian,  the 
home-loving  German,  converged  there,  and 
mingled  their  life  blood  into  a  stream  of 
vital  unity.  This  stream  flows  on  into  the 
future,  bearing  upon  its  tide  the  grandest 
hopes  and  possibilities.  Divergent  and  dif- 
ferentiated branches  of  the  Aryan  race  were 
uniting  with  a  common  j^ui'pose,  and  would 
have  a  common  destiny.  Their  gain  and 
their  elevation  were  full  of  meaning  to  all 
men  who  toil. 

On  his  way  east,  while  passing  through 
the  State  of  Pennsylvania,  he  had  the  njis- 
fortune  to  lose  his  pet  dog,  which  acciden- 
tally escaped  from  the  car,  as  the  train 
stopped  at  one  of  the  interior  towns.  The 
train  went  on,  and  the  two  friends  were  sep- 
arated. One  went  on  to  Brooklyn ;  the 
other  wandered  about  the  strange  streets. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       147 

But  so  strong  was  his  attachment  to  the  now 
homeless  dog,  that  he  went  back  and  hunted 
him  up,  finding  him  in  the  care  of  a  kind 
woman.  He  returned  with  him  and  both 
were  happy.  And  then  he  wrote  the  ro- 
mance of  his  pet  dog.  But  like  so  many 
other  things  in  this  world,  both  romance  and 
dog  have  disappeared. 

While  in  Brooklyn  he  wrote  short  articles 
for  the  Milwaukee  Sentinel,  mostly  on  polit- 
ical topics.  He  had  been  born  and  brought 
up  a  Democrat.  He  was  one  of  the  people, 
and  was  for  them  and  their  government. 
But  when  a  slaveholder's  aristocracy  put  on 
the  garb  of  Democracy,  he  allied  himself 
with  the  Republican  Party  and  helped  elect 
Abraham  Lincoln.  When  the  power  of  this 
aristocracy  had  been  broken,  when  the  Union 
had  been  preserved,  and  when  certain  Kepub- 
lican  leaders  became  the  willing  instruments 
of  monopoly,  and  were  reaching  after  power 
and  influence  which  were  almost  imperial 
and  absolute,  he  longed  for  the  Democracy 
of  the  immortal  founders  of  the  Republic. 


148       MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

When  the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  toiling 
masses  were  imperiled  he  moved  with  fear- 
less energy  to  their  defense.  He  was  against 
the  mind  that  falsified  the  principles  of  eter- 
nal justice.  He  spurned  the  man  who  did 
not  come  with  an  open  hand  into  the  pres- 
ence of  those  who  toil.  He  had  no  sympathy 
with  those  who  heap  up  fabulous  wealth  from 
the  earnings  of  the  men  who  swing  the  axe 
and  hammer,  who  dig  and  plough  the  soil, 
who  drill  and  blast  the  rocks,  who  build  of 
wood  and  stone,  and  who  are  the  hope  of 
their  country's  highest  good. 

The  following  paragraphs,  taken  from  his 
address  to  representative  citizens  of  Wiscon- 
sin, contain  the  highest  political  wisdom,  as 
well  as  the  best  principles  of  statesmanship  : 

"  In  calling  this  convention  to  order,  it 
seems  to  me  necessary  to  give  a  reason  for 
our  political  course.  Briefly  as  possible  I 
will  state  the  principles  which  ought  to  guide 
us  in  adhering  to,  or  in  departing  from,  ex- 
isting parties. 

"  Man's  first  allegiance  is  to  the  eternal 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       149 

source  o£  justice.  The  Ruler  of  the  universe 
claims  and  enforces  our  fealty.  A  higher 
law,  symbolized  in  the  order  of  the  world, 
woven  into  the  web  of  intellectual  and  moral 
life,  ever  demands  human  obedience.  To 
the  will  of  the  Sovereign  of  heaven  and  earth 
every  mortal  must  yield  assent. 

"  The  state  is  founded  upon  this  abiding 
government  of  the  world.  The  architects  of 
human  governments  build  more  or  less  wisely, 
according  to  their  clearer  or  obscurer  vision 
of  the  indestructible  good.  As  a  rule,  gov- 
ernments are  abiding  in  proportion  to  the 
amount  of  God's  justice  which  they  embody. 

"  It  is,  therefore,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
that  men  owe  only  a  secondary  allegiance  to 
the  state.  We  are  bound  in  obedience  to 
the  government  under  which  we  live,  so  long 
as  that  government  conforms  to  the  higher 
law.  When,  in  the  progress  of  society,  the 
judgment  and  the  conscience  of  the  public 
are  developed  into  antagonism  with  the  gov- 
ernment, it  is  the  duty  of  a  people  to  change 
an  older  and  lower  form  of  government  for 


150       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

a  higher  and  better.  The  right  of  revolution 
is  founded  upon  the  obligation  of  fealty  to 
unchangeable  justice.  Our  fathers  broke 
their  allegiance  to  the  government  under 
which  they  were  born,  and  instituted  another, 
in  order  to  secure  for  themselves  and  their 
posterity  the  broader  liberty  that  springs 
from  the  embodiment  of  ampler  justice  in 
the  state.  They  recurred  to  the  common 
duty  of  mankind  to  translate  their  progres- 
sive enlightenment  into  civil  and  political 
institutions.  The  Declaration  of  Indepen- 
dence expresses  in  lofty  form  the  ethics  of 
revolution,  and  stands  as  the  highest  chapter 
in  the  gospel  of  liberty.  .  .  . 

"  As  the  fabled  Egyptian  phoenix,  when 
it  had  grown  old,  burned  itself  in  the  temple 
of  the  sun,  but  from  the  ashes  sprang  up  a 
new  phoenix,  destined  to  live  its  allotted 
time  ;  so  from  the  embers  of  a  perished  party, 
consumed  in  the  flame  of  a  civil  war,  rises 
the  new  party,  which  is  already  rejoicing  in 
its  strength.  The  party  of  spoliation,  the 
revived  Federal  Part}'^,  may  rake  unmolested 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       151 

in  the  ashes  for  proofs  of  vanished  political 
sins.  Leaving  antagonism  behind  us,  ours 
shall  be  the  noble  task  of  restoring  wise  and 
frugal  government,  or  restoring  peace,  lib- 
erty, and  safety  to  the  whole  nation. 

"  They  tell  us  there  are  no  issues  requiring 
the  formation  of  a  new  political  organization. 
As  the  Democratic  Party  perished  by  becom- 
ing the  instrument  of  slavery,  so  the  Repub- 
lican Party  is  perishing  as  the  instrument  of 
monopoly.  A  spontaneous  organization  took 
place  among  the  people,  fifteen  or  twenty 
years  ago,  to  resist  the  encroachments  of  the 
slave  power.  The  like  process  is  going  on 
to-day  to  resist  the  power  of  monopoly.  The 
principles  of  Jefferson  were  violated  towards 
four  millions  of  black  men.  From  the  mouth 
of  their  labor  was  taken  the  bread  it  earned. 
The  same  principles  are  now  violated  towards 
ten  millions  of  toiling  white  men.  From  the 
mouth  of  their  labor  is  taken  much  of  the 
bread  it  earns.  While  two  hundred  millions 
of  dollars  are  collected  from  the  people  by  a 
tariff,  for  the   expenses   of  government,  a 


152       MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

greater  sum  is  transferred  from  their  hard 
earnings  to  the  coffers  of  a  few,  through  the 
monopolies  created  by  the  same  tariff.  The 
producers  of  the  country  are  paying  every 
year  dividends  on  a  thousand  millions  of 
'  watered '  railway  stocks  and  construction 
'  rins: '  steals.  We  have  not  at  this  time  a 
wise  and  frugal  government  that  restrains 
men  from  injuring  one  another.  We  have 
instead,  an  unwise  and  expensive  paternalism 
that  does  not  leave  men  free  to  regulate  their 
own  pursuits  of  industry  and  improvement. 
Arrayed  against  the  people  at  this  very  hour 
are  corporations  whose  aggregate  income 
greatly  exceeds  that  of  the  national  govern- 
ment. The  party  in'  power  is  allied  with 
these  corporations.  It  can  no  more  break 
with  them  than  the  old  Democracy  could 
break  with  the  owners  of  slaves.  It  was 
necessary  to  organize  a  great  political  party 
to  deliver  four  millions  of  ignorant  blacks 
from  injustice  ;  still  more  is  it  now  necessary 
to  organize  a  new  party  to  deliver  from  in- 
justice ten  millions  of  intelligent  white  men. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       153 

No  issues !  The  uprising  of  tlie  people, 
north,  south,  east,  and  west  will  soon  teach 
the  old  leaders  that  it  is  time  to  stop  fighting 
in  the  graveyard  of  the  past,  to  heed  the 
duties  of  the  living  present. 

"  Representatives  of  the  citizens  of  Wis- 
consin, I  have  encountered  many  obstacles  in 
my  endeavor  to  bring  you  here  together. 
Earnest  conviction  has  alone  nerved  me  to 
the  task.  I  am  not  an  office  seeker.  I 
never  held  an  office  in  my  life.  Make  no 
effort  here  or  elsewhere  to  nominate  me  for 
an  office,  for  I  shall  not  accept.  Moreover, 
if  any  man  comes  among  you  seeking  his 
own  self,  let  him  lose  it.  Animated  by  a 
common  purpose  of  elevating  the  tone  of 
public  life,  of  redressing  wrongs,  of  deliver- 
ing from  oppression,  of  rebuking  corruption, 
of  establishing  equal  justice  for  all,  let  us 
become  genuine,  disinterested  political  re- 
formers." 

One  characteristic  of  O.  W.  Wight,  ap- 
parent in  his  life,  and  often  mentioned  by 
himself,  was  that  he  looked  upon  what  came 

7* 


154       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

to  his  hand  to  do  as  a  problem  to  be  solved. 
He  put  all  his  purpose,  energy,  and  strength 
into  his  work,  with  the  idea  of  making  it  the 
best  possible  under  the  circumstances.  It 
was  a  problem  to  solve ;  it  was  a  piece  of 
work  to  do.  In  the  work  he  found  his  duty, 
and  that  satisfied  his  heart.  In  the  problem 
he  found  intellectual  activity,  and  that  satis- 
fied his  brain.  In  the  consentaneous  results 
of  both  the  duty  and  the  problem  he  found 
a  sense  of  approbation  and  encouragement, 
and  that  satisfied  his  soul.  And  when  he 
had  mastered  the  elements  and  principles  of 
one  thing,  he  moved  uj)on  the  citadel  of 
another.  So  when  the  old  leaders,  unmind- 
ful of  the  dangers  and  perils,  refused  to 
weigh  anchor,  declining  to  set  sail  upon  the 
great  sea  of  political  reform,  he  left  them 
to  wander  and  dig  among  the  ghosts  and  ashes 
of  the  dead  past.  He  had  performed  his 
duty ;  he  had  solved  the  problem  for  himself ; 
as  they  would  not  follow,  he  did  not  remain. 
He  "  stumj)ed "  the  State  of  Wisconsin, 
in  the  interests  of  political  reform.       There 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W,   WIGHT,        155 

was  no  doubt  about  the  venality  and  corrup- 
tion that  had  invaded  the  Republican  Party. 
That  party  had,  in  a  great  measure,  served  its 
purpose,  and  was  outliving  its  usefulness. 
It  began  to  be  a  house  divided  against  itself. 
The  Democratic  Party  had  been  put  out  of 
power  and  had  been  severely  punished  for 
being  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  great  move- 
ments which  make  for  human  progress.  Did 
this  party  forget  nothing?  Did  its  leadeis 
disdain  to  learn  anything  new?  His  object 
was  to  seek  needed  reform  in  the  reorganiza- 
tion of  this  party.  And  it  was  largely 
through  his  energy  and  efforts  that  the  Dem- 
ocrats of  Wisconsin,  after  years  of  defeat, 
were  led  to  a  new  victory.  His  practical, 
logical,  and  eloquent  speeches  during  the 
campaign,  especially  among  the  Grangers, 
helped  to  defeat  the  party  allied  to  monopoly. 
If  corruption  was  in  the  Republican  Party, 
the  spirit  of  office  seeking  was  still  in  the 
Democratic  Party ;  the  latter  did  not  want 
to  be  reformed,  and  the  former  would  not  be 
reformed.     How  often  would  the  chickens  of 


156       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

both  parties  have  been  gathered  under  the 
wings  of  reform,  but  they  would  not.  Odious 
and  unscrupulous  men  of  both  parties  wage 
a  war  of  extermination,  and  those  who  are 
left  to  tell  the  tale,  combine  to  rob,  op- 
press, and  spoliate  the  people.  In  its  evo- 
lution, human  nature  is  greater  than  parties 
and  governments.  The  leaven  of  bad  men 
in  parties  and  governments  is  more  perni- 
cious and  harmful  than  all  other  influences 
combined.  The  man  who  rules  for  his  own 
aggrandisement  is  an  ignominious  failure. 
The  machinery  of  government  must  be  run 
for  the  people.  The  highest  trust  under 
heaven  is  to  be  the  administrator  of  the 
affairs  of  a  great  and  free  people.  One  can 
never  cease  to  love  and  admire  —  after  the 
immortal  founder  of  the  republic  —  its  no 
less  immortal  restorer.  And  every  good 
citizen  prays  that  God  may  always  raise  up 
such  a  ruler  for  the  people. 

Governor  Taylor,  in  1875,  *'  with  the  ad- 
vice and  consent  of  the  Senate,"  appointed 
Dr.  O.  W.  Wight  "  chief  geologist "  of  the 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       157 

State  of  Wisconsin.  This  position  brought 
him  into  notice  as  an  organizer  of  work,  and 
as  an  executive  officer.  It  also  in  new  ways 
brought  him  into  new  relations  with  impor- 
tant questions  of  science.  He  extended  his 
studies  from  man  to  the  soil  on  which  man 
lives.  He  was  interested,  not  only  in  the 
history  of  man,  but  also  in  the  history  of 
man's  planet.  The  evolution  of  one  must 
be  co-related  to  the  evolution  of  the  other. 
He  now  continued  to  read  that  mighty  book, 
whose  successive  leaves  the  great  Author 
imprinted  and  folded  around  the  evolving 
earth,  and  on  which  were  written  imperish- 
ably  the  characters  that  reveal  to  us  the  steps 
of  the  slowly  going  changes  to  be  wrought 
by  the  wise  plans  made  before  the  founda- 
tions were  laid.  To  read  this  book  rightly 
is  to  read  the  secrets  of  the  universe.  To 
accept  the  lessons  that  it  teaches  is  to  believe 
in  and  profit  by  the  text  of  modern  revela- 
tion ;  and  so  knowledge  and  reverence  grow 
more  and  more  side  by  side. 

The  soil  must  give  food  and  drink  to  man. 


158       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

It  must  be  mantled  by  the  mobile  air.  It 
must  be  watered  by  the  moving  clouds.  It 
must  be  broken  by  the  winter  frosts.  It  must 
be  ploughed  by  the  creeping  worm.  It  must 
be  manipulated  by  the  busy  beam  of  the 
solar  orb,  and  it  must  be  cultivated  by  the 
active  hand  of  man.  That  which  is  taken 
away  must  be  given  back.  The  fountain  of 
fertility  must  not  run  dry.  Careless,  waste- 
ful, indifferent  man,  who  can,  if  he  will, 
make  the  desert  blossom  as  the  rose,  must 
be  taught  to  conserve  the  productiveness  of 
his  acres.  He  must  understand  the  ques- 
tion of  supply  and  demand,  as  it  affects 
the  soil  on  which  he  lives.  He  builds  and 
plants  for  to-day  and  to-morrow  as  well. 
As  he  inherits  the  past,  so  he  must  give 
the  present  to  the  future.  He  cannot  im- 
poverish his  acres  with  impunity,  for  his 
wastefulness  and  ^^arsimony  will  leave  a 
crop  of  thorns  and  thistles  to  his  children. 
He  is  a  grand  embodiment  of  the  law  of 
correlation  and  the  conservation  of  energy, 
and  he  will  be  held  to  a  strict  accountability 
for  his  part  in  the  evolution  of  the  race. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       159 

One  of  the  great  problems  affecting  tlie 
destiny  of  man  on  this  planet  relates  to  the 
conservation  of  the  fertility  of  the  soil.  The 
man  who  goes  hungry  becomes  demoralized 
and  degraded.  Hold  it  as  you  will,  the 
brain  that  is  suffering  from  mal-nutrition 
is  in  a  poor  condition  to  rise  to  elevated 
thoughts  of  God's  universe  and  his  provi- 
dence. The  heart  that  pulsates  to  the  foot- 
steps of  Want  does  not  always  appreciate 
the  sublime  doctrine  of  charity.  The  mind 
and  soul  which  should  sing  together,  will 
each  make  a  different  music,  if  the  body 
which  they  inhabit  and  which  dies  daily,  is 
not  daily  rebuilt,  by  means  of  those  beauti- 
tiful  gifts  which  mother  earth  alone  can 
bestow. 

Blessed  is  the  man  who  plants  his  corn 
and  reaps  his  grain,  with  the  archway  of 
heaven  bending  over  his  patient  head.  He 
is  thrice  blessed  :  blest  in  the  faith  that  the 
harvest  will  surely  come ;  blest  in  his  daily 
toil  that  brings  him  each  morning  to  a  re- 
newal of  his  life  :   blest  in  his  reverential 


160       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

study  of  the  sublimest  of  all  works.  Some- 
where it  has  been  said,  that  God  did  plan 
and  shape  the  circling  worlds  ;  did  contrive 
the  gladness  of  the  spring;  did  make  the 
mellow  light  of  autumn  ;  did  let  fall  the 
crystal  flakes  of  winter ;  did  send  forth  the 
cooling,  renovating  winds ;  did  engrave  the 
records  upon  the  folded  rocks ;  and  "  for 
our  advantage,"  did  write  the  Holy  Books : 
And  all  these  things  are  meant  for  him  who 
turns  and  tills  the  fruitful  soil. 


XYII. 

Anothek  field  of  labor  now  opens  to  the 
Doctor,  —  one  wliich  seems  to  be  more  to  his 
taste,  —  one  in  which  he  can  apply  his  talent 
for  study  and  investigation,  and  one  which 
will  enable  him  to  display  his  executive 
ability.  He  is  appointed  health  officer  of 
the  city  of  Milwaukee.  He  at  once  laid 
hold  of  the  great  principle  of  prevejitive 
medicine.  Men  had  been  working  for  cen- 
turies to  learn  how  to  cure  disease.  Fabu- 
lous loss  and  expenditure,  incredible  toil 
and  suffering,  immortal  heroism  in  the  face 
of  death,  had  made  men  weary,  but  they 
were  not  discouraged,  though  the  long-looked 
for  secret  had  not  yet  been  discovered.  The 
learned  doctors  were  so  busy  in  the  almost 
vain  endeavor  to  cure,  that  they  did  not  take 
time  to  think  how  they  might  prevent  dis- 


162       MEMORIAL   OF   0.   W.   WIGHT. 

ease.  And  yet  the  same  great  principle 
runs  through  so  many  things  :  It  is  better  to 
prevent  crime  than  it  is  to  imprison  thieves 
and  hang  murderers  ;  it  is  wiser  to  maintain 
social  order  than  to  obliterate  the  footprints 
of  revolution ;  it  is  more  desirable  to  de- 
stroy the  causes  of  disease  than  to  give 
names  to  maladies  we  cannot  cure.  The 
ship  is  sinking,  and  the  men  on. board  try  to 
pump  out  the  water,  but  never  think  of  going 
into  port  to  stop  the  leak. 

Hygeia  is  a  very  ancient  goddess.  She 
came  to  earth  among  primeval  men.  And 
she  even  kindly  rules  over  the  beasts  of  the 
field  and  forest.  She  is  the  most  lovable 
and  beneficent  of  those  mystic  beings  which 
came  to  bless  or  harm  before  the  dawn  of 
history.  The  earliest  historic  man  has  taken 
refuge  in  her  sanctuary.  The  old  Hebrew 
raised  his  voice  in  worship  at  her  altar.  The 
sons  of  Buddha  knelt  at  her  shrines.  The 
faithful  Moslem  prayed  and  fought  under 
her  protection.  The  sages  of  the  ^gean 
Isles  have  the  honor  of  giving  her  a  name. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.       163 

And  tlie  blessed  Master  approved  her  work, 
and  gave  lier  his  benediction,  —  for  that 
which  is  clean  is  next  to  godliness. 

Hygeia  blesses  the  food  we  eat,  and  puri- 
fies the  water  we  drink;  she  makes  clean 
the  garments  we  wear,  and  renovates  the 
house  in  which  we  live ;  and  she  helps  to 
build  the  temple  of  this  body  into  a  fitting 
abode  for  the  indwelling  spirit.  Happy  is 
the  man  who  entertains  as  a  perpetual  guest 
this  beneficent  being,  —  happy  in  his  work, 
happy  in  his  play,  happy  in  his  sleep,  happy 
in  his  worship.  To  him  the  sun  shines 
with  new  and  newer  light ;  the  winds  blow 
more  acceptably ;  the  seasons  roll  round 
more  benignly ;  the  heart  has  better  feel- 
ings ;  the  mind  has  nobler  thoughts ;  the 
soul  has  higher  aspirations.  Her  wish  is  to 
crown  every  human  being  with  ripeness  of 
years  and  fullness  of  wisdom.  Who  would 
not  labor  at  her  commands,  and  be  eter- 
nally obedient  to  her  laws  ?  Who  would 
not  dwell  with  her  dutiful  children,  and  find 
the  happiness  of  this  life  more  and  more  ? 


164       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

One  can  understand  the  upheaval  and  de- 
struction caused  by  the  earthquake ;  one 
can  appreciate  the  ruin  and  the  desolation 
wrought  by  the  cyclone ;  one  can  compre- 
hend the  loss  and  the  calamity  of  the  con- 
flagration ;  one  can  realize  the  horrors  and 
pains  of  famine.  But  faithful  women  and 
brave  men  flee  in  terror  before  the  pesti- 
lence, —  they  flee,  because  it  is  secret,  in- 
visible, and  relentless.  But  now,  however 
dreadful  it  may  have  been  in  the  past,  pes- 
tilence can  be  held  in  check  by  Hygeia. 
And  this  goddess  stands  revealed  as  the 
personification  of  science,  —  that  science 
which  prevents  the  people  from  perishing. 
And  it  only  amounts  to  this,  that  the  beau- 
tiful idea  of  protecting  and  saving  the  peo- 
ple from  disease  has  been  crystalized  into 
the  form  of  a  gentle  and  benignant  woman. 
One  of  the  fathers  of  medicine  has  lik- 
ened the  physician  unto  a  blind  man  in  the 
dark.  The  blind  man  went  into  a  dark 
room,  with  a  club  in  his  hands,  to  encounter 
a  robber  who  had  made  an  attack  upon  his 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.       165 

friend.  He  could  not  see  at  all,  and  be- 
sides it  was  dark  ;  and  yet  he  must  try  to 
defend  his  friend  against  an  enemy.  If  the 
club  strikes  the  enemy  it  kills  him  ;  if  it 
falls  upon  his  friend,  it  destroys  him.  In 
the  parable,  the  sick  man  is  the  friend,  and 
the  enemy  is  the  disease.  And  one  fears 
that  the  parable  at  times  has  been  true. 
For  it  may  be  that  the  causes  of  disease 
have  been  unknown.  And  so  medicine  is 
not  yet  an  exact  science ;  curative  medicine 
has  not  been  perfected ;  a^nd  preventive 
medicine  is  still  imperfect.  And  then  the 
good  and  lovable  Hygeia  sprang  into  pro- 
gressive life,  and  we  hope  that  she  will  be 
immortal.  At  the  same  time  her  practice  is 
being  founded  on  true  science,  and  has  al- 
ready risen  to  a  high  degree  of  perfection. 
The  science  and  practice  of  preventive  med- 
icine are  going  rapidly  towards  a  higher 
level.  One  is  amazed  at  the  revelations  of 
modern  times.  The  telescope  has  revealed 
the  wonders  of  the  starry  heavens,  requiring 
volumes  to  describe  them.     And  the  micro- 


166       MEMORIAL   OF   0.  W.  WIGHT. 

scope  has  revealed  to  us  the  mysteries  of  an- 
other universe  at  our  feet.  We  have  the 
stellar  universe  above  us ;  we  have  the  uni- 
verse of  man  within  ;  and  we  have  the  mi- 
crohic  universe  below.  We  have  a  small 
being  that  is  neither  plant  nor  animal  ex- 
clusively, —  but  is  both  in  part  combined. 
The  microbe  is  like  a  green  plant,  and  it  is 
like  an  animal;  it  can  take  its  nitrogen 
from  ammonia  compounds,  and  so  is  like  a 
plant ;  it  cannot  take  its  carbon  from  car- 
bonic acid,  and  so  is  like  an  animal.  This 
mixture  of  good  and  evil  is  like  the  Sphinx. 
It  stands  upon  the  border  of  the  desert  and 
looks  two  ways ;  one  leads  into  the  vegeta- 
ble, and  the  other  leads  into  the  animal 
kingdom. 

And  then  the  half  is  not  told.  Fire  is 
beneficent,  if  it  is  kept  in  chains  ;  water  is 
a  good  friend,  if  it  is  imprisoned ;  gravic 
force  is  a  kind  protector  if  its  law  is  obeyed  ; 
we  can  send  the  benedictions  of  peace 
through  the  electric  current,  but  the  same 
subtile  agent  can  rive   the   strongest   oak. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT,       167 

Now  this  little  vegito-animal,  this  microbe 
is  a  friend  and  a  benefactor  to  man,  —  he 
lives  on  the  dead,  destroying'  that  which  is 
mischievous  and  harmful.  He  is  an  indis- 
pensable scavenger,  cleansing  the  soil  and 
purifying  the  air.  The  cycle  of  economic 
changes  necessary  for  growth  and  decay 
would  be  impossible  without  this  unicellular 
organism.  He  is  not  always  man's  friend, 
—  and  when  he  becomes  an  enemy,  how 
baneful !  how  deadly  !  He  is  more  malevo- 
lent than  the  plagues  and  woes  of  Egypt. 
The  scavenger  becomes  an  assassin.  He 
comes  in  the  dark ;  he  comes  in  the  light  of 
day ;  but  we  cannot  see  him  ;  and  we  only 
know  of  his  presence  when  the  victim  falls 
at  our  feet.  These  strange  beings  destroy 
the  dead  body  of  the  beggar,  as  well  as  that 
of  the  imperial  Caesar.  And  sometimes 
they  will  consume  the  body  that  is  alive,  — 
as  if  they  were  the  avengers  of  sin  and 
crime,  —  as  if  they  delighted  to  feast  on  the 
blood  of  the  innocent.  Their  abode  is  in 
the  dirt  that  lies  on  our  floors ;  in  the  filth 


168       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

that  gathers  in  corners ;  in  the  slime  that 
oozes  from  neglected  places ;  in  garbage 
that  accumulates  in  our  kitchens ;  in  the 
waste  that  befouls  the  ways  of  our  going 
and  coming.  The  glory  of  the  Sanitarian  is 
that  he  can  keep  these  little  plants  from 
transj^lantation,  that  he  interpose  a  barrier 
to  the  immigration  of  these  little  animals, 
provided  he  has  the  legal  authority  and 
power. 

What  did  Hygeia  tell  the  health  commis- 
sioner to  do  ?  Hygeia  said :  ^Preserve  the 
health  of  my  peojjle,  for  they  perish  for  the 
lack  of  hnowledge.  That  was  the  spirit  of 
his  commission.  That  was  the  motive  of 
his  work.  That  was  the  watchword  of  his 
duty.  And  right  loyally  did  he  obey  and 
carry  out  the  order.  Upon  the  door  behind 
which  contagion  and  infection  were  at  work, 
was  put  the  well-known  mark  of  danger,  so 
that  one  could  pass  by  on  the  other  side. 
The  yellow  flag  of  the  microbe,  as  it  rose  on 
the  breeze,  mutely  told  the  pathetic  story  of 
the  deadly  contest  within,  where  none  but 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       169 

the  good  physician  and  the  faithful  nurse 
can  be  of  service.  They  may  imperil  life, 
—  but  others  may  pass  to  their  peaceful  pur- 
suits in  safety.  As  a  great  poet  sang  of  an 
ill-used  race  of  men  who  till  the  soil,  so  we 
may  sing  of  an  ill-used  race  of  men  who 
cure  the  sick.  But  more  pathetic  must  be 
our  song  of  him  who  defends  the  citadel  of 
public  health  against  the  attacks  of  dis- 
ease. 

Dr.  Wight  in  his  "Maxims  of  Public 
Health,"  wrote :  "  In  the  city  of  Milwau- 
kee I  spent  a  month,  as  Commissioner  of 
Health,  in  making  a  careful  and  faithful  in- 
spection of  the  dairies  from  which  the  milk- 
supply  came.  The  conditions  of  food  of 
cows,  cleanliness  and  ventilation  of  stables, 
drainage,  water,  surroundings,  etc. ;  whether 
the  animals  were  healthy,  turned  out  to  pas- 
ture in  summer,  constantly  confined  in  win- 
ter, etc. ;  whether  the  proprietors  were  filthy, 
negligent,  etc.,  —  all  the  facts  were  written 
out  separately  for  each  dairy ^  tabulated,  and 
indexed.     The  index  alone  made  over  two 

8 


170       MEMORIAL   OF  O.   W.   WIGHT. 

hundred  and  fifty  pages  of  manuscript. 
When  all  was  completed,  I  invited  citizens, 
through  every  newspaper  in  town,  to  call  at 
the  health  office  and  read  a  detailed  descrip- 
tion of  the  places  from  which  they  obtained 
milk  for  their  households.  Out  of  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  thousand  inhabitants,  the 
population  at  that  time,  just  eleven  came  to 
see  the  record.  Yet  the  apathy  of  Milwaukee 
citizens  on  this  subject  is  not  exceptional. 
Will  somebody  account  for  it  in  a  rational 
wav  ?  About  fifty  per  cent,  of  a  city's  mor- 
tality is  of  children  under  five  years  of  age. 
Among  the  causes  of  such  premature  mor- 
tality, bad  milk,  or  milk  poisoned  with  dis- 
ease germs,  may  be  reckoned  among  the  first. 
The  poor  little  ones,  with  their  pale,  up- 
turned faces,  with  bloodless  hands  folded  on 
their  motionless  breasts,  with  their  dumb 
lips,  plead  to  heaven  in  vain ;  for  even  a 
voice  from  the  dead  cannot  arouse  the  living 
from  a  fatalism  more  appalling  than  that  of 
the  Mohammedans.  What  effect  would  it 
have  if  an  enlightened  preacher,  instead  of 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       171 

talking  at  the  funeral  about  a  mysterious 
Providence,  were  to  accuse  the  milkman, 
point  blank,  of  murder  ?  The  people  would 
probably  mob  the  preacher  instead  of  the 
milkman." 

After  pointing  out  the  unsanitary  condi- 
tions of  the  public  schools  of  Milwaukee,  he 
adds : — 

"  And  this  is  not  all.  The  habit  of  dull- 
ness, begotten  by  the  unsanitary  conditions 
herein  pointed  out,  lasts  during  life,  and 
more  or  less^ cripples  the  productive  energy 
of  a  whole  generation  of  citizens.  More- 
over, this  vital  question  touches  the  pride 
and  hope  of  almost  every  household.  We 
must  also  reckon  the  cost  of  increased  sick- 
ness, and  a  larger  percentage  of  death.  It 
seems  heartless  to  dwell  upon  the  economic 
side  of  the  great  and  important  problem. 
Above  all,  and  beyond  all,  are  human  suffer- 
ing, constitutions  broken  for  life,  seeds  of 
disease  early  sown,  pain  too  deep  for  tears 
in  the  panting  breast  of  many  a  little  one, 
the  heartache   of   parents,  the  shroud,  the 


172       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

emblems  of  mourning,  the  solemn  dust  to 
dust  and  ashes  to  ashes  closing  blighted 
careers  which  sanitary  wisdom  might  have 
prolonged  over  the  customary  years  of  use- 
fulness." 


XVIII. 

The  administration  of  the  Health  Officer 
of  Milwaukee  soon  began  to  benefit  her 
citizens  in  many  ways.  At  first  people  do 
not  like  to  submit  to  rules  of  conduct  which 
will  make  for  their  advantage.  The  per- 
sonal liberty  to  do  harm  to  others  is  some- 
times more  precious  than  obedience  to  the 
wisest  laws.  The  personal  liberty  to  create 
a  focus  of  disease  for  self  and  the  vicinage 
does  not  tend  to  the  pursuit  of  happiness, 
nor  is  it  according  to  the  Constitution.  To 
abridge  such  personal  liberty  required  time. 
And  to  educate  men  in  the  science  of  their 
own  well-being  is  not  an  easy  task.  Yet 
these  things  were  accomplished.  And  the 
citizens  of  the  lake  citv  learned  a  o'ood  les- 
son,  and  gave  evidence  and  testimonial  to 
the  wise  head  and  firm  hand  that  suggested 


174       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

and  enforced  a  better  sanitary  administra- 
tion. At  length  the  methods  and  the  results 
drew  the  attention  of  intelligent  men  in  other 
cities.  So  far  did  the  influences  of  this 
work  extend,  that  Dr.  O.  W.  Wight,  in 
September,  1881,  received  the  following  let- 
ter :  — 

Detroit,  Mich.,  September  6,  1881. 

0.  W.  Wight,  Health  Commissioner, 
Milwaukee,  Wis. :  — 

Dear  Sir,  —  In  compliance  with  the  in- 
struction given  me  this  afternoon  by  the 
Board  of  Health,  I  write  to  inform  you  of 
your  unanimous  choice  as  Health  Officer  of 
our  city,  and  at  the  same  time  to  urge  you 
to  accept  the  ajDpointment  and  to  inform  us 
when  you  can  enter  upon  your  duties. 
Very  respectfidly, 

D.  O.  Farrand, 

Pres.  Board  of  Health. 

The  doctor  accepted  the  appointment,  and 
went  to  Detroit,  where  he  found  difficulties 
in  different  directions.     It  was  a  heavy  task 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       175 

to  conserve  the  health  of  a  great  city,  when 
the  people  were  indifferent,  when  there  was 
opposition  from  medical  men,  when  the  au- 
thorities were  not  liberal  with  means  and 
power.  One  grows  weary  of  rolling  up  hill 
the  "  huge  round  stone "  of  obdurate  in- 
difference. —  Thou  citizen,  who  dost  talk 
much  about  thy  personal  liberty ;  who  dost 
scorn  to  be  the  slave  of  any  man  ;  who  dost 
boast  of  thy  coming  and  going  in  all  things 
as  thou  wilt ;  who  art  one  of  the  rulers  of 
the  Republic ;  who  hast  no  expectant  ears 
for  the  pratings  of  the  sanitarian  ;  who  dost 
set  thyself  above  the  laws  of  nature  and 
the  blows  of  chance  ;  —  thou  wilt  suffer,  for 
the  remorseless  microbe  will  eat  thee ;  thy 
sense  shall  grow  dim  from  the  poison  of  the 
deadly  ptomaine  ;  the  fever  of  Sepsis  shall 
consume  thee ;  and  thou  shalt  fall  into  the 
forgetfulness  prepared  by  Stupidity  for  all 
his  angels. 

"  At  first  the  people  objected  to  having 
their  houses  placarded,  as  a  violation  of 
personal   liberty.      A   little   argument  con- 


176       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

vinced  reasonable  citizens  that  no  man  has 
the  natural  or  acquired  right  to  expose  his 
neighbors  to  deadly  contagious  disease  by 
concealing  it  in  his  own  house.  Personal  lib- 
erty to  give  small-pox  to  somebody  else  had 
better  be  abridged  as  soon  as  possible.  Per- 
sonal liberty  to  send  scarlet  fever  into  a 
school  with  your  child  is  rather  diabolical 
than  beneficent.  Personal  liberty  to  infect  a 
church  with  a  diphtheria  corpse  is  tempting 
Providence  to  start  an  epidemic.  A  law 
abiding  community  submitted,  and  to-day 
the  system  of  placarding,  if  it  were  left  to 
an  election,  would  receive  a  majority  of 
votes  in  its  favor.  Experience  proves  its 
value  in  many  ways  to  the  citizen.  He 
knows  and  feels  that,  by  reason  of  it,  his 
family  is  more  secure  against  diseases  that 
cost  money,  anxiety,  and  sorrow." 

And  then  one  sees  the  Health  Officer,  as 
he  goes  to  the  hovel  of  a  poor  woman,  whose 
babe  lies  sick  with  small-pox.  The  woman, 
with  a  mother's  instinct,  runs  for  an  axe  to 
defend  her  little  one.     She  does  not  compre- 


MEMORIAL   OF   0.   W.   WIGHT.       Ill 

hend  the  duty  of  the  health  officer,  nor  does 
she  understand  his  legal  authority,  —  but  she 
disputes  his  power.  Neither  does  she  real- 
ize the  peril  to  herself  and  her  other  chil- 
dren from  the  dread  disease.  And  as  for 
her  neighbors,  how  little  does  she  care !  She 
takes  the  law  into  her  own  hands.  While 
she  is  gone  for  the  axe,  the  health  officer 
takes  a  rubber  blanket  from  a  peg  in  the 
wall ;  he  tenderly  lifts  the  little  one  from 
her  cradle,  wraps  it  in  the  blanket,  carries  it 
to  his  carriage,  and  drives  rapidly  to  the 
pest-house,  which  is  a  regal  palace  compared 
with  the  wretched  hovel  whence  it  was 
taken.  Then  the  mother  goes  to  him  and 
on  her  bended  knees  begs  the  sacred  privi- 
lege of  nursing  her  afflicted  babe.  Yes,  she 
may  bestow  upon  it  all  her  affection,  and 
nurse  it  with  a  mother's  care,  in  a  place  that 
will  not  bring  peril  to  others,  and  where 
there  is  some  chance  of  recovery.  She  is 
happy  —  God  bless  her. 

At  one  time  he  thought  to  strike  the  enemy 
of  public  health  in  one  of  its  secret  recesses 

8* 


178      MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT, 

—  in  the  sewer  itself.  He  would  disinfect 
the  great  refuse-river  that  runs  under  the 
floor  of  the  city,  and  destroy  the  multitudi- 
nous microbes  which  live  there  and  perform 
their  allotted  work.  Imitating  a  practice  as 
old  as  Homer,  he  burned  sulphur  in  the  man- 
holes above  the  Stygian  waves  of  the  dark, 
filthy  river.  And  when  the  sulphur  began 
to  burn,  the  fumes  found  their  way  through 
the  traps  into  the  adjacent  houses,  —  and 
the  frightened  inhabitants  rushed  into  the 
street,  declaring  that  the  Imp  of  darkness 
and  the  day  of  doom  had  come.  Two  things 
were  demonstrated  :  one,  that  the  traps  did 
not  seal  the  sewer  tight ;  the  other,  that  dis- 
infecting the  sewer  lowered  the  death  rate. 

"  In  nine  out  of  ten,  probably  in  ninety- 
nine  out  of  a  hundred,  houses  in  this  city 
connected  with  the  public  sewers,  the  gas  is 
a  perpetual  guest.  Like  the  traditional 
ghost,  it  comes  through  closed  doors.  It 
does  not  go  when  it  is  ready,  but  comes  to 
stay.  Nothing  but  the  subtile  cunning  of 
science  can  bar  its  ingress.     It  is  worse  than 


MEMORIAL   OF   0.   W.   WIGHT.       179 

the  skeleton  that  is  said  to  be  in  every  man's 
closet.  It  is  more  unwholesome  than  a  rot- 
ten corpse.  The  cadaver  might  be  enclosed 
in  a  single  room.  The  poisonous  gas  is 
everywhere.  The  effluvium  of  the  corpse 
does  not  lie  in  ambush.  The  gas  comes 
from  the  organic  decay  of  the  whole  neigh- 
borhood. To-day  it  brings  with  it  the  con- 
tagion of  typhoid ;  to-morrow  it  introduces 
diphtheria ;  next  day  it  smuggles  in  scarlet 
fever.  It  gives  no  warning,  and  its  unknown 
presence  is  not  shunned.  It  sleeps  with 
you,  creeps  into  every  cell  of  your  lungs, 
and  lays  shadowy  fingers  on  every  drop  of 
your  heart's  blood." 

The  exordium  and  the  peroration  of  a  ser- 
mon by  the  health  officer  on  Hoio  to  mahe 
a  place  unhealthy^  are  of  interest :  "  Most 
people  have  heard  the  story  of  the  good  old 
prosy  minister  who,  as  soon  as  the  deacons 
began  to  snore  and  the  whole  congregation 
began  to  nod,  gave  a  sudden  and  shrill  blast 
on  a  dog  whistle.  Everybody  was  wide 
awake  in  a  moment.     '  When  I  preach  the 


180       MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

gospel,'  the  minister  pathetically  said,  '  you 
go  to  sleep ;  but  as  soon  as  I  begin  to  raise 
the  devil,  you  are  all  attentive  enough.' 

"  If  I  had  prepared  a  paper  on  How  to 
Make  a  Place  Healthy^  you  would  have 
regarded  the  subject  as  safely  orthodox,  and 
probably  would  have  shown  confidence  in 
the  sanitary  preacher  by  listening  in  a  pas- 
sive manner.  When  I  propose  to  raise  the 
deuce,  by  discoursing  on  the  theme.  How  to 
Make  a  Place  Unhealthy^  you  will  probably 
be  on  the  alert  to  detect  sanitary  heresy." 

An  interesting  discourse  follows,  closing 
with  memorable  and  touching  words : 
"  Many  an  unfortunate  man  weaves  about 
himself  and  his  household,  through  his  own 
sanitary  ignorance,  not  unfrequently  with 
the  concurrence  of  another's  sanitary  crime, 
a  fate  more  terrible  than  that  told  by  Ugo- 
lino  to  Dante  in  the  '  Inferno.'  Surrender- 
ing to  the  warlike  Archbishop  of  Pisa,  Ugo- 
lino  was  imprisoned,  with  his  two  sons  and 
his  two  grandsons,  in  a  tower  which  long 
bore  the  name  of    Torre  della  Farae^  the 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       181 

Tower  of  Famine.  One  morning  after, 
they  heard  the  lower  door  of  the  tower 
locked.  The  key  was  thrown  into  the  adja- 
cent river,  and  the  prisoners  were  deliv- 
ered into  the  hands  of  Hunger  as  their 
executioner.  As  the  historian  Napier  says, 
'  Their  tragic  fate  still  sounds  in  awful  num- 
bers from  the  lyre  of  Dante,  after  more 
than  five  hundred  years.' 

"  I  will  let  the  unhappy  Shade  of  Ugolino 
tell  the  tale,  in  thirty  lines  of  poetry,  which 
says  Landor,  are  unequaled  by  any  other 
thirty  in  the  whole  dominion  of  poetry." 

"  And  I  heard  locking  up  the  under  door 
Of  the  horrible  Tower  ;  whereat  without  a  word 
I  gazed  into  the  face  of  my  sons. 
I  wept  not,  I  within  so  turned  to  stone  : 
They  wept  :  and  darling  little  Ansehnn  mine 
Said  :   Thou  dost  gaze  so,  father,  what  ails  thee  f 
Still  not  a  tear  I  shed,  nor  answer  made 
All  that  day,  nor  yet  the  night  thereafter. 
Until  another  sun  rose  on  the  world, 
As  now  a  little  glimmer  made  its  way 
Into  the  dolorous  prison,  and  I  saw 
Upon  four  faces  my  own  very  aspect, 


182       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.    WIGHT. 

Both  of  my  hands  in  agony  I  bit  : 
And  thinking  I  did  it  from  desire 
Of  eating,  on  a  sudden  they  uprose, 
And  said  they  :  Father,  much  less  pain  't  will  give  us 
If  thou  dost  eat  of  us :  thyself  did  clothe  us 
With  this  poor  flesh,  and  do  thou  strip  it  off. 
I  calmed  me  then,  not  to  make  them  more  sad. 
That  day  they  were  silent,  and  the  next. 
Ah !    obdurate  earth,   wherefore  didst    thou   not 
open? 

When  we  had  come  unto  the  fourth  day,  Gaddo     , 

Threw  himself  down  outstretched  before  ray  feet 

Saying  :  My  father,  why  dost  thou  not  help  me  ? 

And  there  he  died  ;  and,  as  thou  dost  see  me, 

I  saw  the  three  fall  one  by  one,  between 

The  fifth  day  and  the  sixth  ;  when  I  betook  me, 

Already  blind,  to  groping  over  each. 

And  three  days   called  them   after  they  —  were 

dead  ; 
Then  hunger  did  what  sorrow  could  not  do." 

"I  have  no  disposition  to  pronounce  a 
malediction  upon  my  fellow-men ;  but,  within 
my  own  knowledge,  more  than  one  poor 
household  has  perished  as  pitiably,  not  with 
hunger,  but  with  fever,  for  which  a  hard,  in- 
different, avaricious  landlord,  who  could  not 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       183 

be  made  to  answer  at  the  bar  of  sanitary 
justice,  shall  answer  in  the  great  hereafter. 
What  the  finger  of  retribution  has  written 
on  the  forehead  of  the  offender  cannot  be 
erased  by  the  blasphemous  and  essentially 
mendacious  cry,  Am  I  my  hrother's  keeper  f 
And  he  who,  by  his  sanitary  stupidity  and 
obduracy,  drags  down  to  untimely  sepulture 
with  himself  his  wife  and  his  little  ones, 
shall  not  be  allowed  to  plead  ignorance  of 
Nature's  inexorable  law  before  a  judge  who 
endowed  him  with  powers  of  knowing,  under- 
standing, and  obeying." 


XIX. 

Dr.  Wight  had  read  and  studied  books 
on  law,  from  time  to  time.  He  was  in- 
terested in  the  principles  of  law,  and  in 
their  application  to  the  government  of  so- 
ciety. His  knowledge  in  this  respect  was 
like  that  in  the  domain  of  general  literature. 
He  was  familiar  with  the  generalizations  of 
the  subject  of  Law.  And  so  it  was  not  a 
difficult  task  to  complete  his  legal  studies. 
This  he  did  during  the  first  years  of  his  resi- 
dence in  Milwaukee.  And  on  the  twenty- 
ninth  day  of  March,  1873,  he  was  admitted 
to  practice  as  an  attorney  and  counsellor  at 
law,  and  solicitor  in  all  Courts  of  Record  in 
the  First  Judicial  Circuit  of  Wisconsin. 
On  the  eighth  day  of  April,  1873,  he  was 
duly  admitted  to  practice  as  an  attorney  and 
counsellor  at  law  and  solicitor  in  chancery 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       185 

in  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State  of  Wis- 
consin. And  on  the  fourteenth  day  of  April, 
1873,  he  was  duly  admitted  an  attorney  and 
counsellor  of  the  Circuit  and  District  Courts 
of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern  District 
of  Wisconsin.  After  Dr.  Wight  went  to 
Detroit  to  assume  charge  of  the  Health 
Office  of  that  city,  he  was  admitted  to  prac- 
tice law  in  the  various  courts  of  the  State  of 
Michigan,  as  well  as  the  Supreme  Court  of 
the  United  States,  as  attested  by  the  follow- 
ing Kecords :  On  the  twenty-first  day  of 
September,  1882,  he  was  admitted  and 
licensed  to  practice  as  an  attorney  and 
counsellor  at  law,  and  solicitor  and  coun- 
sellor in  chancery,  in  the  several  courts  of 
the  State  of  Michigan.  On  the  sixteenth 
day  of  November,  1885,  he  was  admitted  to 
practice  as  an  attorney  and  counsellor  at  law 
and  solicitor  in  chancery,  in  the  Circuit 
Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Sixth 
Circuit  and  Eastern  District  of  Michigan. 
And  on  the  ninth  day  of  December,  1885, 
he  was  duly  admitted  and   qualified  as  an 


186       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

attorney    and    counsellor    of    the    Supreme 
Court  of  the  United  States. 

As  opportunity  offered,  Dr.  Wight  en- 
tered, to  some  extent,  into  the  practice  of 
the  profession  of  law.  A  case  in  which  he 
took  great  interest  was  one  which  he  related 
to  a  circle  of  friends  at  his  brother's  house 
in  Brooklyn.  The  following  are  the  leading 
facts  of  the  case :  A  poor  woman  had  been 
indicted  for  the  crime  of  infanticide.  The 
evidence  in  the  hands  of  the  public  prose- 
cutor seemed  to  be  very  strong.  Public 
feeling  against  the  defendant  ran  high.  She 
was  without  friends  and  without  money, 
and  her  case  appeared  well-nigh  hopeless. 
The  doctor  undertook  her  defense.  He 
brought  forward  convincing  evidence  that 
the  defendant  could  not  have  caused  the 
death  of  her  infant.  The  medical  testimony, 
as  well  as  the  testimony  as  to  facts,  made  a 
deep  impression  on  the  jury.  In  his  ad- 
dress to  the  jury,  he  first  gave  a  simple  and 
clear  statement  of  the  unanswerable  evi- 
dence proving  the  innocence  of  his  client ; 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       187 

and  then  he  added  that  his  client  was  a 
devout  Catholic,  and  that  her  religious  con- 
victions were  wholly  inconsistent  with  so 
dreadful  a  crime,  and  that  there  could  not 
be  the  shadow  of  a  motive  for  committing 
it.  A  speedy  verdict  in  her  favor  was  ren- 
dered, and  the  poor  woman  was  set  free. 
She  repaid  her  benefactor  with  tears,  thanks 
and  blessings,  for  she  had  nothing  else  to 
give. 

The  following  is  taken  from  his  defense 
of  certain  persons  who  had  pleaded  guilty  of 
conspiracy  to  defraud  the  government :  — 

"  Finally,  the  enlightened  administration 
of  justice  has  in  view  not  simply  the  inflic- 
tion of  punisment  for  crimes  committed,  but 
also,  and  foremost,  the  reformation  and  pres- 
ervation of  the  citizen.  Those  who  have 
pleaded  guilty  before  this  court  to  the 
charge  of  conspiracy  to  defraud  the  govern- 
ment are  not  in  need  of  severe  punishment 
to  remind  them  of  their  obligation  to  obey 
the  laws.  Their  affection  for  the  govern- 
ment will  not  be  increased  by  long  incarcer- 


188       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

ation.  Having  suffered  severely  already, 
in  body  and  estate,  clemency  will  impress 
more  profoundly  than  severity.  A  great 
government  that  could  afford  to  pardon  the 
leaders  of  a  mighty  conspiracy  which  cost 
the  nation  half  a  million  of  lives  and  several 
billions  of  treasure,  can  surely  be  contented 
with  inflicting  a  minimum  of  punishment  on 
citizens  misled  by  its  own  agents  into  a  con- 
spiracy to  defraud  the  government.  These 
men  have  repented,  and  have  brought  forth 
fruits  meet  for  repentance  by  aiding  the 
government  with  their  testimony.  To  strike 
them  when  they  are  down,  when  they  have 
ceased  to  contend,  with  more  severity  than 
is  absolutely  necessary,  would  be  a  viola- 
tion of  the  public  sense  of  justice,  the  in- 
evitable tendency  of  which  would  be  to 
weaken,  not  to  strengthen  respect  for  the 
law.  At  such  a  juncture,  mercy  is  wisdom, 
and  severity  is  tyranny.  Mercy  in  these 
cases  is  literally  twice  blessed,  blessing  the 
government  that  gives,  and  the  prisoner  that 
receives  :  it  is  — 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       189 

*  like  the  Hours 
That  sit  open-handed  on  the  clouds, 
And  press  the  liberality  of  heaven 
Down  to  the  laps  of  thankful  men.'  " 

As  he  understood  them,  the  principles 
guiding  the  practice  of  law  may  be,  in  part, 
expressed  as  follows :  We  often  hear  of  the 
license  of  counsel  in  the  treatment  of  wit- 
nesses. In  fact,  the  witness  often  complains 
of  the  difficulties  encountered  in  giving  tes- 
timony ;  and  he  especially  dreads  the  cross- 
examiner.  Now,  what  is  the  duty  of  coun 
sel?  He  speaks  for  his  client,  since  his 
client  cannot  speak  for  himself.  It  is  his 
duty  to  defend  the  rights  and  interest  of  an- 
other for  whom  he  speaks  and  acts.  This  is 
also  his  business.  He  must  ward  off  an  at- 
tack ;  he  must  repel  an  invasion  ;  he  must 
protect  his  client  from  the  threats  and  men- 
aces of  an  adversary.  He  must  use  his  best 
skill  and  exert  all  his  powers  to  prevent  his 
client  from  suffering  an  injustice,  from 
being  wronged.  He  must  leave  nothing  un- 
done to  prove  his  innocence,  to  gain  his  ac- 


190       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

quittal,  to  promote  his  interests,  to  maintain 
his  rights.  In  matters  that  are  relevant  to 
the  issue  he  may  search  the  depths  of  the 
heart,  he  may  probe  the  profoundest  feel- 
ings, and  he  may  traverse  the  ways  of  the 
most  devious  intellect.  He  is  like  the  skill- 
ful surgeon,  who  causes  pain  that  life  may 
continue. 

The  law  entrusts  the  advocate  with  ex- 
tensive powers  and  with  great  liberty  of 
speech,  such  as  in  e very-day  life  would  not 
be  tolerated.  In  what  he  may  conscien- 
tiously do  to  defend  his  client  he  is,  as  it 
were,  only  limited  by  his  own  sense  of  duty ; 
and  if  he  has  a  high  sense  of  duty,  in  his 
own  field  of  work  he  is  supreme.  In  his 
search  for  truth  he  must  not  be  reckless, 
nor  rash,  nor  unreasonable.  If  he  goes  be- 
yond the  law  and  if  he  violates  the  rules  of 
evidence,  he  may  be  admonished,  repri- 
manded, or  punished  by  the  court.  He  is 
not  at  liberty  to  seek  after  truth  by  means 
that  are  illegal  and  wrong.  He  must  pur- 
sue his  work  by  methods  that  are  legal  and 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       191 

right.  We  all  respect  the  magnanimous  and 
upright  advocate ;  he  is  an  honor  to  his  pro- 
fession ;  he  is  a  terror  to  those  who  do  evil ; 
he  is  a  hope  for  those  who  are  assailed  and 
wronged ;  he  is  a  public  benefactor  and  an 
ornament  to  society. 

Too  frequently  the  advocate  has  to  deal 
with  a  witness  who  is  a  partisan,  who  is  hos- 
tile, who  is  prejudiced,  who  is  offensive,  who 
is  unscientific.  He  may  be  excused  for 
treating  such  a  witness  with  rigorous  sever- 
ity ;  he  may  bring  to  bear  on  him  his  most 
powerful  weapons  ;  he  may  drive  him  against 
the  wall  of  truth  ;  he  may  dissect  every  fibre 
of  his  motives ;  he  may  impale  him  on  the 
sword  of  the  cross-examiner ;  he  may  ex- 
pose his  prejudices,  his  pretensions,  and  his 
presumptions.  And  yet,  as  a  high  authority 
has  said,  an  advocate  is  a  warrior,  and  not 
an  assassin. 

Dr.  Wight  appears  to  have  had  three 
leading  objects  in  the  study  and  practice  of 
law  :  one,  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  ;  one 
the  relations  of  law  to  history  ;  one,  the  em- 


192       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

bodiment  of  law  in  the  Constitution.  He 
took  satisfaction  in  conquering  every  de- 
partment of  human  knowledge.  Simply, 
it  was  his  ambition  to  know  whatever  was 
knowable.  Beyond  that  he  traced  the  prin- 
ciples of  law  into  the  evolution  of  history. 
What,  indeed,  would  Grecian  history  be 
without  the  laws  of  Greece?  One  of  the 
historical  monuments  of  this  ancient  and 
classic  land  bears  the  inscription  :  Go  tell 
the  one  who  passes  by  that  here  obedient  to 
our  country^s  laws  we  lie.  And  we  may 
stop  for  a  brief  moment  to  contemplate  the 
pathetic  dust  that  was  once  ensouled  with 
the  breath  and  life  of  immortal  heroes.  One 
can  never  forget  the  grand  and  pathetic 
justice  of  Socrates,  as  he  tells  his  friend 
Crito,  if  he  tries  to  destroy  the  laws  of  his 
country,  that  the  laws  in  Hades  will  be 
angry,  and  will  not  receive  him  kindly  on 
his  arrival,  —  and  so  he  drinks  the  poison. 
What  would  the  history  of  Rome  be  without 
Roman  law  ?  And  after  the  fall  of  old 
Rome,  has  not  her  law,  in  one  form  or  an- 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       193 

other,  lived  on  in  the  jurisprudence  of  more 
modern  nations,  giving  life,  stability,  and 
perpetuity  ?  And  we  too,  in  the  newness  of 
our  national  life,  trace  the  roots  of  our  own 
laws  back  to  the  same  great  source.  Laws 
are  rules  of  action.  Actions  are  civil  deeds. 
And  criminal  deeds  are  offenses  against  the 
laws.  But  deeds,  civil  and  criminal,  of  in- 
dividuals and  states  make  up  the  events 
recorded  in  history. 

Dr.  Wight  had  "  read  an  average  of 
one  hundred  pages  of  history  daily  during 
more  than  twenty  years  of  a  laborious  life. 
.  .  .  How  much  more  fruitful  the  reading 
might  have  been  if  it  had  been  guided  from 
the  beginning  by  the  experience  accumulated 
at  the  end  !  "  He  had  gone  over  the  field  of 
the  world's  history,  and  was  digesting  and 
shaping  the  material  in  his  mind.  The 
plans  of  work  were  being  arranged.  It  was 
a  continuation  of  the  same  purpose  of  bring- 
ing before  the  people  a  better  kind  of  read- 
ing that  he  began  years  previous,  in  editing 
the  volumes  of  the  "  Home  Library,"  which 


194       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

contained  the  lives  of  the  great  men  of  his- 
tory.     He  says  :    "  A  considerable  number 
among  the  millions  of  intelligent  people  in 
this  country  have  a  desire  to  know  some- 
thing of   the  world's  marvelous    story,  and 
would  willingly  set  themselves  the  task  of 
reading,  at  odd  hours,  a  reasonable  number 
of    books   of    history   if   some   experienced 
friend  could  be  found  to  designate  the  par- 
ticular works   best  adapted  to   the  end  in 
view,  and  to  indicate  the  proper  sequence  in 
which  to  pursue  them.  .  .  .  Any  sj^stematic 
study,  or  even  reading  of  history,  may  well 
besrin  with   that   of  Greece.     The  Hellenes 
occupied  both  shores  and  the  islands  of  the 
^gean  Sea.     Their   enchanting  land  faced 
the  east  on  the  one  side,  and  the  west  on 
the  other.    They  were  midway  between  Asia 
and  Europe.     Greek  history  touches  the  re- 
motest antiquity,  and  reaches  down  to  the 
present  time.    Except  the  Christian  religion 
Greek  culture  is  the  most  important  factor 
in  European  civilization.     The  Aryan  race 
made  its  earliest  and  most  important  achieve- 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       195 

ments  in  Hellas.  The  history  of  the  Greeks 
is  not  only  profoundly  instructive  and  inter- 
esting in  itself,  it  is  also  the  key  to  all  other 
histories  of  civilized  men." 

The  study  and  practice  of  law  enabled 
Dr.  Wight  to  prepare  a  valuable  work  on 
the  Constitution.  The  work  is  indexed  by 
the  leading  words  and  topics  of  the  Consti- 
tution, and  is  adapted  as  a  book  of  refer- 
ence. The  opinions  of  the  distinguished 
jurists,  and  the  decisions  of  the  courts  as  to 
the  construction  of  the  Constitution  and  its 
amendments,  are  so  arranged  as  to  make 
them  available  to  the  student  of  constitu- 
tional law,  as  well  as  to  lawyers  who  may 
come  to  try  cases  in  the  future,  under  the 
application  of  the  supreme  law  of  the  land. 
It  is  the  design  of  the  author  to  have  this 
work  published,  as  soon  as  time  permits  and 
opportunity  offers. 

In  brief.  Dr.  Wight  was  an  educated 
physician,  an  able  lawyer,  and  a  skilled  en- 
gineer ;  and  he  brought  to  bear  his  three- 
fold knowledge  upon  the  application  of  san- 


196       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT, 

itary  science  to  the  preservation  of  the  public 
health.  His  zeal  was  commensurate  with 
his  acquirements.  His  ambition  was  to  ben- 
efit the  public  by  giving  advice  on  hy- 
giene, when  that  advice  had  been  fortified 
by  law,  and  based  on  sound  views  of  engi- 
neering. In  this  way  he  was  more  than 
equivalent  to  a  sanitary  board  composed  of 
a  physician,  a  lawyer,  and  an  engineer. 


XX. 

In  the  mean  time  the  President  of  the 
Board  of  Health,  Dr.  D.  O.  Farrand,  had 
been  taken  away  in  the  prime  of  life.  The 
Health  Officer  felt  that  he  had  lost  a  true 
friend.  And  when  this  loved  and  lovable 
man  was  laid  at  rest,  he  paid  him  a  heart- 
felt tribute.  All  hearts  were  touched  by 
his  simple,  plain  words,  earnest  in  the  ex- 
treme, and  full  of  hope,  rising  from  the 
transitory,  until  the  unseen  and  the  eternal 
appeared  to  open  for  him  who  had  put  off 
all  that  was  mortal.  Another  noble  and 
blameless  life  had  been  given  up  in  the  ser- 
vice of  "  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men." 
And  everybody  mourned  his  departure. 
The  bereavement  was  hard  to  bear.  We 
ask.  Why  are  the  good  and  useful  taken, 
and  the  bad  and  useless  left  ?  Then  we 
say.  We  know  not  why. 


198       MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

As  time  went  on,  there  arose  an  ''  irrecon- 
cilable difference  of  opinion  as  to  methods 
and  aims "  between  the  Health  Officer  and 
the  Board  of  Health.  The  Health  Officer 
had  "  toiled  hard  "  for  years,  "  reduced  the 
death  rate,  and  abated  nuisances  by  the 
thousand."  He  said  :  "  It  is  not  my  fault 
that  I  quit  the  service,  yet  I  am  glad  to 
lay  down  a  heavy  burden."  He  sent  his 
resignation  to  the  mayor.  This  step  caused 
much  regret  in  municipal  circles.  And 
when  asked  to  reconsider  his  action,  he  re- 
plied :  "  I  came  to  the  conclusion  deliber- 
ately and  I  will  resign.     Such  expressions  as 

Dr. 's  greatly  reduce  the  effect  of  the 

work  of  the  health  department  and  create 
insubordination  on  the  part  of  the  public." 
Finally,  with  honor,  with  integrity,  with 
respect,  he  left  the  Health  Office,  and  went 
forth  a  "  free  man,"  with  only  one  regret,  — 
that  any  one  could  be  found  to  stand  be- 
tween his  efforts  and  the  good  of  the  public. 
Yet  such  things  have  been  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  we  fear  will  be  to  the  end.     They 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.       199 

who  will  not  see  are  of  necessity  blind  ; 
there  are  none  so  deaf  as  they  who  close 
their  ears ;  they  are  the  most  stupid  who 
will  not  learn  ;  and  there  are  none  so  use- 
less as  they  who  oppose  the  public  good. 
In  this,  as  in  all  human  affairs,  we  find  men 
who  tend  to  reversion  of  type  in  the  domain 
of  enlightenment  and  progress.  This  is  a 
veritable  disorder  which  seems  to  be  hope- 
less and  without  remedy. 

But  the  doctor  had  laid  down  the  burden 
of  his  office,  —  and  was  again  looking  for- 
ward :  this  had  been  one  of  the  maxims  of 
his  life.  To  be  and  act  in  the  living  pres- 
ent were  the  stepping-stones  to  the  higher 
good  of  the  future,  in  which  every  man 
should  have  faith.  The  unalterable  and  van- 
ished past  is  among  the  records  of  things 
done,  right  or  wrong.  The  present  is  the 
only  thing  that  lives.  The  future  is  being 
born  eternally  into  newness  of  life.  So  he 
was  looking  forward. 

In  the  spring  of  1886  a  brief  letter  came 
from   Detroit,  announcing  that  he  had  re- 


200       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

signed  his  position  as  Health  Officer,  had 
sold  out  everything,  and  had  made  prepara- 
tion for  a  journey  to  the  East  and  around  the 
world,  in  order  to  see  and  study  the  Aryan 
peoples  in  their  homes,  and  so  fulfill  a  long- 
cherished  desire.  He  had  already  engaged 
his  passage  across  the  ocean  on  the  "  Trave." 
He  could  no  longer  endure  the  heavy  burden 
of  toil  and  responsibility  in  the  Health  Office. 
He  was  worn  and  weary,  and  if  he  did  not 
get  relief  he  would  die.  He  thought  the  best 
way  to  rest  and  recuperate  was  to  travel. 
He  had  no  ties  to  bind  him,  for  he  was 
virtually  alone.  He  would  be  at  my  house 
at  a  certain  time,  and  tarry  a  few  weeks  be- 
fore embarking. 

When  he  came,  it  could  be  seen  that  the 
fingers  of  time  had  been  busy.  Change 
comes  to  all  things  done  by  man,  and  to 
man  himself.  Memory  ran  back  through 
the  vista  of  years,  and  touched  on  all  it 
could,  and  left  all  it  could  not  bring. 
The  heroic  struggle  for  a  place  and  name 
seemed  brief  enough,  and  yet  it  could  not 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.       201 

last.  Thus  to  live  and  jvork  was  different, 
so  diverse,  compared  with  one  who  digs 
contentedly  in  the  solemn  dust.  There  was 
a  momentary  retrospect,  but  no  vain  re- 
gret, only  a  looking  forward  from  the  van- 
tage-ground already  conquered.  A  thought 
of  nothing  lost,  but  of  something  missed, 
in  the  brief  cycle  of  the  past. 

"  We  are  the  voices  of  the  wandering  wind, 
Which  moan  for  rest,  and  rest  can  never  find  ; 
Lo  !  as  the  wind  is,  so  is  mortal  life, 
A  moan,  a  sigh,  a  sob,  a  storm,  a  strife." 

Then  in  story  he  again  wandered  over  the 
famous  Lake  District  of  England ;  after 
that  went  down  to  the  shores  of  sunny  Italy  ; 
once  more  journeyed  amid  the  scenes  on  the 
banks  of  the  Rhine ;  —  in  nature  he  found 
much  interfused,  and  more  in  man :  and  be- 
hind all  was  a  memory  that  would  not  fall 
into  forgetfulness.  And  so  one  knew  that 
more  than  time  had  been  at  work :  that  am- 
bition and  toil  had  done  their  part  and  that 
Destiny  had  done  all  they  could  not  do. 
It  was  his  purpose  to  go  over  into  Central 

9* 


202       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

Asia.     He   desired   to   see   and   study   the 
strange  people  of  that  strange  land.     It  was 
thence  that  migrations  had  taken  place.     It 
was  in  the  East  that  we  find  the  cradle  of 
the  human  race.     To  this  day  they  have  not 
greatly  advanced  in  civilization.     To  travel 
over  their  rugged  hills  and   through  their 
dense   forests    would    involve   fatigue    and 
hardship  that  could  only  be  borne  b}^  one 
in   robust    health.      These   peoples   appear 
never  to  have  ceased  to  war  with  each  other, 
and  this  would  augment  the  danger  of  travel 
through  their  inhospitable  country.     It  was 
difficult  to  persuade  him  from  braving  the 
perils  of   the  wild  tribes  of   men  who  live 
tnostly  without  law  and  order  in  this  land 
where   man   has  appeared   to   live   always. 
But  he  did  not  fully  give  up  his  design  of 
visiting  this  cradle-land  until  he  had  gone 
over  toward    the   East  far   enough   to    find 
that  journeying  further  was   impracticable 
and  impossible. 

The  day  of  going  came,  when  the  "  Trave  " 
was  to  sail  out  on  the  trackless  deep,  as  they 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       203 

say,  over  the  lost  Atlantis,  having  all  her 
cultivated  fields,  her  noble  cities,  and  her 
monuments,  submerged  for  long  ages,  wait- 
ing for  upheaval  in  the  time  to  come.  The 
day  was  sunny.  A  light  haze  veiled  the 
sky,  as  if  to  limit  the  vision  into  the  future. 
The  elements  were  silent.  The  storms  were 
dumb.  There  were  no  winds  to  "  wrestle 
and  to  rave."  The  majestic  Hudson  as  of 
old  was  contending  with  the  heaving  tides 
of  the  ocean.  There  was  hurrying  to  and 
fro  of  busy  feet.  The  hum  of  industry 
and  commerce  arose  from  the  metropolis  of 
the  West.  Man  was  ceaselessly  setting 
foot  upon  the  ever-vanishing  present  be- 
tween two  eternities,  —  one  gone,  the  other 
to  come.  Why  should  the  highest  of  God's 
creatures  appear  to  "  walk  with  aimless 
feet  ?  "  We  know  not  now,  —  hut  then  we 
shall  hnow  even  as  we  are  hnovjn.  And 
on  that  day  we  parted,  not  as  we  had  parted 
before,  but  with  an  expectancy  less  sure. 
For  the  morn  of  life  had  gone,  and  the  sun 
was    drawing    toward   the  west.     And  rest 


204       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

comes  sooner  then.  One  knows  not  when 
or  where  those  he  loves  will  fall  into  silence. 
Yet  there  need  be  no  fear.  For  the  great 
Father,  in  his  universal  and  unalterable 
Providence,  does  nothing  but  good  to 
his  children.  In  many  ways  our  lives  and 
fortunes  had  been  linked  together.  Across 
the  tide  both  ways  more  than  once  was 
held  a  helping  hand.  So  the  future  would 
make  for  pain  and  grief,  not  to  him  who 
first  met  his  fate,  but  to  him  who  was  left 
at  his  post  of  duty.  Sometimes  we  all  have 
prophetic  visions  of  the  future.  Science  is 
only  a  form  of  seeing,  —  but  seeing  is  wider 
than  all  science.  There  seemed  to  be  a 
light  that  shone  into  the  future  farther 
than  the  eye  could  see.  The  years  that  had 
vanished  seemed  to  be  of  so  little  worth. 
The  boundless  and  deathless  future  opened 
up  another  expansion.  On  these  two  shores, 
the  one  here  and  the  other  hereafter,  we 
said  the  word  —  Farewell. 


XXI. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  condense  the 
narrative  of  this  long  journey.  Its  purpose 
can  only  be  indicated  by  extracts  from  its 
preface,  as  well  as  by  some  remarks  and  re- 
flections. The  book  in  which  it  is  found  is 
commended  to  the  reader.  The  author 
says : — 

'♦Last  year  I  made  a  long,  winding  jour- 
ney around  the  globe,  in  order  to  observe 
every  country  in  which  an  Aryan  people 
has  established  civil  government.  One 
looks  in  vain  elsewhere  for  progress  and  lib- 
erty. The  Aryan  nations  of  antiquity 
Greece  and  Rome,  must  be  studied  in  his 
tory,  for  the  Greek  and  Roman  peoples 
have  passed  away  and  can  no  longer  be 
studied  in  their  daily  life.  Yet  the  lands 
occupied  by  the  vanished  races  may  still  be 


206       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

visited  by  the  traveler,  who  can  at  least  be- 
come familiar  with  the  scenes  in  the  midst 
of  which  they  dwelt.  The  study  of  Aryan 
peof)les,  whether  living  or  departed,  can 
alone  reveal  to  us  the  origin  and  develop- 
ment of  the  world's  civilization. 

"  History  is  comparatively  barren  without 
a  knowledge  of  geography.  Maps  may  aid 
us  much,  especially  when  studied  with  the 
help  of  some  experience  and  a  vivid  imagi- 
nation; but  traveling  alone  can  give  us 
true  geographical  knowledge.  Current  his- 
tory becomes  real  to  us,  is  translated  into 
personal  experience,  only  when  by  traveling 
we  observe  at  once  people  and  country  in 
their  intimate  relations.  In  pursuit  of  such 
vital  knowledge,  I  traversed  Europe  from 
north  to  south,  from  east  to  west,  and 
journeyed  far  off  to  Australia  and  New  Zea- 
land, on  the  other  side  of  the  globe,  where 
fresh  Aryan  communities  are  planting  civil 
liberty  in  the  southern  hemisphere. 

"  Art,  science,  literature  are,  with  a  very 
few  notable  exceptions,  the  products  of  Aryan 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.        207 

civilization,  and  can  be  studied  only  in 
countries  occupied  by  Aryan  peoples. 
Above  all,  in  sucli  countries  alone  do  we 
find  recognition  of  human  rights  and  the 
establishment  of  institutions  for  the  benefit 
of  the  many.  There  is  doubtless  room  for 
progress  in  the  most  enlightened  nations, 
for  civilization  has  not  yet  borne  all  its 
fruits.  .  .  . 

"  The  leading  purpose  of  the  book,  how- 
ever, is  political  and  social.  I  have  aimed 
to  draw  faithful  portraits  of  the  leading 
civilized  nations  of  the  world  as  they  exist 
to-day.  Of  course,  the  features  of  the  great 
peoples  of  the  earth  can  be  drawn  only  in 
outline  on  the  small  pieces  of  canvas  that 
constitute  the  brief  chapters  of  a  single 
volume.  Yet  generalizations,  if  true  to  fact, 
if  they  are  the  results  of  accurate  observation, 
if,  above  all,  they  embody  the  real  laws  that 
govern  the  development  of  humanity  in 
time  and  space,  are  the  best  aids  to  a  fruit- 
ful study  of  detailed  history. 

"  The  reader  may  or  may  not  accept  my 


208       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

philosophical  definition  of  a  nation,  yet  it 
will  certainly  reveal  to  him  that  underlying 
every  independent  national  existence  is  a 
problem  wider,  deeper,  than  form  of  govern- 
ment, territorial  possession,  succession  of 
events,  or  transition  of  passing  generations 
of  men.  Whether  my  particular  theory  is 
accepted  or  not,  my  object  will  be  gained  if 
I  succeed  in  convincing  the  reader  that  the 
Providence  of  history  has  a  rational  basis. 
Travel  among  the  peoples  of  the  world  may 
well  have  a  higher  aim  than  personal  amuse- 
ment or  material  pleasure. 

"  *  What  sliapest  thou  here  at  the  world  ?  ' 
'  'T  was  shapen  long  ago  ; 
The  Maker  shaped  it, 
And  thought  't  were  best  even  so.'  " 

To  indicate  the  guiding  principle  in 
studying  and  giving  "  an  account  of  the  rise, 
progress,  achievements,  decline,  and  fall  of 
nations, "  a  description  of  his  idea  of  a  na- 
tion may  be  noted  :  "  It  is  quite  evident  that 
a  nation  is  not  merely  a  territory ;  is  not 
simply  a  portion  of  the  earth's  surface.     The 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       209 

place  occupied  by  a  nation,  a  people,  is  no 

more  a  nation,  a  people,  than  the  house  a 

man  lives  in  is  a  man. 

"  O  Earth,  what  changes  thou  hast  seen  ! 
There  where  the  long  street  roars  hath  been  ^ 
The  stilbiess  of  the  Central  Sea. 

"Yet  nations  have  seen  more  changes 
than  the  earth.  Many  a  kingdom  has 
passed  away,  while  surrounding  sea  and  land 
remain  substantially  the  same.  The  same 
clouds  gather  on  the  brow  of  Olympus,  the 
same  sun  shines  on  the  plains  of  Thessaly, 
the  same  glorious  atmospheric  haze  rests  on 
the  hills  of  Attica,  the  same  tempest  lashes 
the  -^gean  Sea,  the  same  stars  keep  nightly 
vigils  over  Delphi,  the  same  winds  sweep 
over  Salamis  and  Platanea,  as  of  old,  but  the 
real  Hellas  is  no  longer  there.  The  mariner 
on  the  Mediterranean  now,  as  in  the  days 
of  ^neas,  gazes  upon  Italy  '  lying  low ; ' 
yet  that  wonderful  land  has  been  the  habi- 
tation of  successive  nations,  successive  peo- 
ples, that  exist  no  more.  The  Israelites 
were  a   nation  in   their   bondage,  in   their 


210       MEMORIAL   OF   0.    W.   WIGHT. 

wanderings,  in  the  Babylonish  captivity,  as 
well  as  when  they  possessed  the  land  '  round 
about  Jordan.'  They  are  a  people  still,  al- 
though dispersed  over  the  whole  globe.  The 
portion  of  the  North  American  continent 
now  occupied  by  our  nation  has  existed 
from  the  formation  of  the  sea  and  the  dry 
land ;  yet  its  fertile  soil,  its  lakes,  its  rivers, 
its  mountains,  its  long  lines  of  coast,  failed 
to  produce  a  people,  till  causes  above  the 
earth  j^lanted  here  a  great  republic. 

"  Neither  is  a  nation  a  form  of  govern- 
ment. Not  only  rulers  and  dynasties  change, 
but  governments  change  in  their  most  essen- 
tial forms,  while  nations  live  on.  Rome  was 
at  first  a  monarchy,  then  a  republic,  then  an 
empire,  but  the  nation  continued.  The  Is- 
raelites remained  the  same  people,  while 
governed  by  patriarchs,  by  law-givers,  by 
judges,  by  kings,  by  foreign  rulers.  France, 
within  a  comparatively  recent  period,  has 
been  a  monarchy,  a  republic,  a  kingdom, 
again  a  republic,  an  empire,  and  once  more 
a    republic ;    yet    the    French    people,    the 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       211 

French  nation,  has  preserved  its  distinctive 
characteristics,  whether  governed  by  Louis 
XIV.,  by  a  National  Assembly,  by  a  mili- 
tary chieftain,  by  a  Bourbon  king,  by  Napo- 
leon III.,  or  by  M.  Carnot.  Even  England 
was  once  a  republic,  without  change  in  the 
strong  individuality  of  the  British  people. 
The  Italian  nation  remained  distinct  while 
ruled  in  sections  by  different  dynasties,  or 
cut  up  into  many  turbulent  republics.  It 
has  retained  the  peculiar  features  of  its  in- 
dividual life  —  a  people  different  from  all 
others — during  repeated  conquests,  during 
the  tumultuous  changes  of  a  thousand  years. 
Greece  remained  the  same  nation,  the  same 
wonderful  people,  during  as  many  mutations 
in  government  as  the  wit  of  man  could  in- 
vent. The  government  of  the  United  States 
was  once  a  loose  confederation,  then  a  con- 
stitutional union  ;  yet  we  remained  the  same 
American  people,  the  same  nation,  differing 
essentially  from  all  other  peoples,  all  other 
nations.  A  nation,  therefore,  is  not  a  mere 
form  of  government. 


212       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

"  Again,  a  nation,  a  people,  is  not  a  mere 
collection  of  human  beings,  is  not  an  aggrega- 
tion, thus  to  speak,  of  individuals,  any  more 
than  the  world  is  '  a  fortuitous  concourse 
of  atoms.'  No  subject  of  Augustus  Caesar 
was  ruled  by  Antoninus  Pius,  yet  they  were 
both  emperors  of  the  same  Roman  people. 
No  Frenchman  living  in  the  time  of  Des- 
cartes is  living  to-day,  yet  who  believes  that 
France  has  ceased  to  live  ?  The  English- 
men of  the  nineteenth  century  are  standing 
on  the  graves  of  the  Englishmen  governed 
by  the  Tudors,  yet  who  doubts  that  England 
still  exists.  Who  questions  that  Homer  and 
Pindar,  though  separated  by  many  vanished 
generations,  sang  to  the  same  Hellenic  peo- 
ple? We  speak  of  Moses  and  David  as 
heads  of  the  same  nation  of  Israelites,  though 
widely  divided  by  the  shadow-land  of  perish- 
ing mortality.  A  dark  stream  of  time  sepa- 
rates Castellar  and  the  Duke  of  Alva,  yet 
the  stream  is  bridged  by  the  Spanish  na- 
tional life.  Not  a  soul  of  us  will  be  here  in 
a  hundred  years,  yet,  I  trust,  the  American 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       213 

people  will  be  here.  Generations  come  and 
go  like  the  shadows  of  summer  clouds,  but 
the  nations  live  on,  obedient  to  laws  that 
have  a  wider  sweep  than  the  laws  that  gov- 
ern individual  life. 

"If,  then,  a  nation,  a  people,  is  not  essen- 
tially a  territory,  a  form  of  government,  or 
a  fortuitous  concourse  of  individuals,  what 
is  it  ?  The  house  a  man  lives  in,  the  clothes 
he  wears,  and  his  material  body,  are  not  the 
real  man.  His  continuous  life,  that  which 
gives  him  through  all  external  changes  a 
consciousness  of  his  identity,  is  his  soul,  his 
spirit,  his  intellectual  and  moral  being.  Just 
so  it  is  with  a  nation.  A  people,  a  nation, 
has  an  inner  life,  an  organic  existence,  that 
preserves  its  identity,  through  all  changes  of 
territory,  of  government,  of  passing  genera- 
tions. It  is  an  idea,  a  great  generalizing 
principle,  a  predominant  thought,  an  organ- 
izing sentiment,  a  vital  force,  a  mode  of 
evolution,  call  it  what  you  will,  that  consti- 
tutes the  soul,  the  essence  of  a  nation.  This 
principle,  this  dominant  idea,  gathers  men 


214       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

around  it,  animates  them  with,  a  common 
national  life,  educates  them,  gradually  forms 
their  speech,  directs  their  efforts  in  a  certain 
course,  coordinates  their  energies,  produces 
through  them  jDcculiar  laws,  shapes  literature 
and  art,  builds  political  and  civil  institutions, 
determines  forms  of  religion,  moulds  social 
life,  creates  manners.  Loyalty  to  this  cen- 
tral sentiment,  this  reigning  idea,  constitutes 
the  soul  of  patriotism  ;  disloyalty  to  it  begets 
rebellion.  When  this  sentiment,  this  idea, 
perishes  from  the  minds  of  men,  the  nation 
animated  by  it,  ensouled  by  it,  inevitably 
perishes  and  passes  away." 

This  idea,  this  thought,  this  principle,  that 
runs  ever  in  the  current  of  national  life,  that 
binds  individuals  together,  that  shapes  pub- 
lic policy,  that  makes  a  people  a  larger 
family,  that  gives  all  a  common  purpose  and 
interest,  that  overshadows  minor  differences, 
that  animates  in  the  pursuits  of  peace,  that 
leads  to  defense  in  war,  that  works  in  the 
administration  of  affairs,  —  this  idea,  this 
soul,  of  a  nation,  was  the  key  of  inter preta- 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       215 

tion,  used  in  reading  history,  in  studying  tlie 
enlightenment,  evolution,  and  progress  of  the 
Aryan  peoples,  in  traveling  through  the 
countries  of  Europe  and  elsewhere,  from 
west  to  east,  from  south  to  north,  from  the 
North  Cape  to  the  ^gean  Isles,  from  the 
Isles  of  the  Central  Sea  to  far-off  Australia. 

On  our  way,  we  will  tarry  briefly  at  the 
North  Cape  to  look  at  the  7nidnight  sun. 

On  the  coast  of  Norway  is  a  labyrinth  of 
islets  and  islands,  intersected  by  waterways 
so  numerous  that  they  bewilder  the  traveler. 
The  islets,  made  mostly  of  stone,  lie  in  zones 
and  clusters  between  the  tranquil  inner 
straits  and  waterways  and  the  stormy  At- 
lantic. Water  and  land  are  everywhere  inter- 
mingled in  the  most  inextricable  confusion. 
The  hardy  fisher-folks  have  built  their  nests, 
like  sea-birds,  on  ledges  of  rocks,  and  their 
frail  skiffs  lie  anchored  upon  the  smooth 
waters  below.  Some  of  the  islands  are  of 
such  size  and  elevation  that  they  remain  in 
sight  all  day,  frowning  in  the  clear  sky,  as 
the  little  steamer  winds  its  devious  way  to- 


216       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

wards  the  land  of  the  midnight  sun.  For  a 
thousand  miles  smaller  islands  form  a  break- 
water to  the  silent  waterways,  in  which  men 
and  boys  fish  in  their  fragile  boats,  and 
where  the  women  and  girls  row  to  church  or 
to  market.  And  on  a  large  inner  channel, 
next  the  mainland,  the  commerce  of  Norway 
is  carried  on  in  safety. 

On  the  voyage  to  the  North  Cape,  you 
seem  to  be  always  environed  by  land  ;  a  solid 
wall  rises  in  front  of  you  ;  behind  you  there 
is  never  an  opening ;  here  the  shaggy  cliffs 
are  hung  with  waterfalls  ;  yonder  is  a  snow- 
capped peak ;  there  the  sea  -  bed  is  visible 
under  the  keel;  at  one  time  silence  reigns 
supreme ;  at  another  the  roar  of  cascades 
breaks  upon  the  ear;  anon  a  silver  cloud 
drops  its  shadow  upon  the  scene ;  you  turn 
to  the  right  because  there  is  no  gateway  on 
the  left ;  and  then  you  turn  to  the  left  to 
avoid  the  sullen  rocks  on  the  right ;  but  you 
move  ever  onward  toward  tho  wonder-land 
of  the  north.  You  are  in  the  midst  of  the 
enchanted  land  which  is  the  home  of   the 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       217 

Norseman,  who  builds  his  house  in  green 
corners,  who  constructs  his  roadways  along 
narrow  dells,  who  cuts  fodder  for  his  beasts 
on  mountain  ledges,  who  makes  the  gleeful 
streams  grind  his  corn,  who  can  "  cling  and 
live  "  wherever  the  feathery  pine  and  silver 
birch  can  find  foothold  and  growth. 

'T  is  here  that  he  who  loves  the  sea  may 
always  look  upon  the  land ;  't  is  here  that  he 
who  loves  the  land  may  always  look  upon 
the  sea,  and  't  is  here  where  land  and  sea 
forever  meet,  and  where  the  sky  bends  o'er 
fair  scenes,  and  its  clouds  are  mirrored  with 
the  waterfalls  and  rocks  in  the  silent  depths 
below,  and  where  Nature's  ceaseless  motions 
agitate  the  cooling  air  all  the  summer  long^ 
to  satisfy  and  soothe  the  heart  of  mortal 
man. 

One  voyages  toward  the  North  Cape,  go- 
ing out  into  a  wide  expanse  of  water,  as  the 
afternoon  glides  on,  and  waits  for  the  mid- 
night sun.  Night  approaches,  but  darkness 
does  not  come.  The  sun  curves  toward  the 
horizon,  but  does  not  deign  to  touch  it.    Now 

10 


218       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

it  "  hides  behind  a  bank  of  violet  cloud,  and 
the  opal  fringe  emits  a  dazzling  effulgence." 
At  some  distance  the  sky  is  cloudless,  and 
seems  to  open  to  an  immeasurable  depth. 
Every  color  and  every  cloud-shape  above  is 
reproduced  in  the  bosom  of  the  sea.  The 
mystic  beauties  of  the  Arctic  heavens  shine 
forth  during  a  night  in  which  no  trace  of 
night  appears.  The  tourist  speaks  not : 
there  is  a  hush  of  delighted  silence,  and  all 
eyes  are  drinking  in  the  strange  scene  of  a 
night  beautified  by  the  unveiled  majesty  of 
the  great  orb  of  day.  "  A  midnight  where- 
in the  sea  is  as  ethereal  as  the  air,  and,  like 
the  air,  streaming  with  strange  splendors,  a 
midnight  in  which  the  very  Viking  ships  as 
they  silently  steal  athwart  a  glittering  path- 
way of  sunlight  seem  like  spectre  ships  glid- 
ing in  a  radiance  at  once  beautiful  and  weird, 
is  never  to  be  forgotten  ;  it  lives  as  a  revela- 
tion, an  exchange  of  the  material  for  the 
spiritual,  a  glimpse  within  the  golden  gates : 
'  And  I  beheld  a  new  heaven  and  a  new 
earth.'  " 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       219 

When  the  great  earth  swings  southward, 
to  lift  the  sun  on  high,  and  the  Norse-land 
emerges  from  the  long  winter  night,  and  the 
cheerful  day  begins  and  lengthens,  as  the 
season  turns  her  footsteps  toward  the  frozen 
zone,  the  orb  of  day  rises,  nor  sets,  but  gilds 
both  day  and  night,  and  rolls  above  the  sea 
and  land  even  at  the  midnight  hour,  or  what 
in  other  lands  would  be  the  midnight  hour, 
and  so  is  called  the  midnight  sun,  which 
shines  until  its  brief  race  is  run,  and  leaves 
the  North  Cape  in  darkness. 

"  Early  Monday  morning  we  started  back, 
southward.  Lyngenfiord  soon  hove  in  sight, 
on  the  west  shore  of  which  is  a  long  line 
of  snow-capped  mountains,  five  or  six  thou- 
sand feet  high.  They  were  distant,  yet  in 
the  clear  atmosphere  looked  so  near.  The 
captain  of  the  steamer  promised  us  a  cotil- 
lion of  whales,  and  a  coronation  of  a  moun- 
tain by  the  sun  at  midnight.  The  proper 
place  was  reached  a  little  past  ten  o'clock  in 
the  evening.  Great  whales  soon  began  their 
gambols,  according  to  programme.     In  the 


220       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

distance  was  a  mountain,  with  lofty  dome, 
which  the  sun  was  nearing  behind  a  curtain 
of  illuminated  clouds.  The  ship  was  so  placed 
that  the  coronation  would  take  place,  weather 
permitting,  from  eleven  o'clock  to  near  twelve, 
when  the  sun  would  emerge,  full-orbed,  into 
an  open  space,  at  midnight.  The  elements 
were  propitious  and  the  exhibition  was  un- 
speakably grand."  The  sun  is  invisible:  in 
the  sky  there  is  a  circle  of  glory,  and  in  the 
midst  is  the  kingly  head  of  the  dusky  colos- 
sus. Now  the  thin  clouds,  like  aerial  tapestry 
held  by  unseen  fingers  above  the  monarch, 
begin  to  burn  along  their  lower  edges.  "  One 
might  think  they  had  caught  fire  from  the 
earth  below,  had  not  this  new  splendor  been 
pure  as  that  of  the  diamond.  Now  the  halo 
around  the  mountain's  stately  brow  expands, 
and  the  hanging  tapestry  of  clouds  pulses 
and  flashes  as  its  flaming  fringe  consumes 
the  texture  of  purj)lish  gray.  See  how  the 
cloud  flickers  and  breaks  up  into  glowing 
shreds,  which  float  aloft  in  upward  streaming 
films  of  dazzling  fire  !     Below  us  is  the  sea. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W,   WIGHT.       221 

around  us  are  the  Silences ;  the  sea  an  ex- 
panse of  damascened  steel,  the  air  still  as 
with  a  holy  hush ;  and  before  us,  high  up  in 
the  heavens  is  the  mountain's  lofty  dome, 
limned  in  lines  of  glistening  light  and  dia- 
demed with  living  lustre.  The  sun  now 
glides  out,  and  just  above  the  shoulders  of 
the  Giant,  it  hangs  in  the  beautiful  scene 
its  perfect  disk  of  glossy  gold.  Our  tourists 
look  at  each  other  with  thoughtful  eyes,  but 
speak  not.  The  hush  that  is  on  all  things 
is  in  their  spirits.  The  silent  rapture  of  the 
scene  steals  upon  them,  and  theirs  is  the 
Sabbath  of  the  soul.  How  eloquent  is  this 
reverent  gazing  at  yonder  beatific  vision  !  " 
In  strange  contrast  with  the  voyage  among 
the  islets  and  islands  of  Norway  was  the 
voyage  among  the  islands  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean. From  the  shores  of  Italy  "  lying 
low  "  across  the  Adriatic  to  these  historic 
islands  was  a  brief  and  pleasant  voyage. 
The  sea-girt  isles,  where  Homer  and  Pindar 
sang  in  immortal  verse ;  where  Socrates  and 
Plato  discoursed  philosophy ;  where   Solon 


222       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

and  Lycurgus  gave  wise  and  wholesome 
laws  ;  where  Agamemnon  and  Ulysses  led 
the  heroic  arms  of  Hellas  against  Tro}^ ; 
where  Aristides  and  Demosthenes  were  elo- 
quent and  just  ;  where  Olympus  and  the 
Acropolis  faced  the  morning  sun,  —  the  en- 
chanted sea-girt  isles,  with  all  their  storied 
song  and  history,  were  embosomed  in  the 
Central  Sea,  as  of  old :  but  their  glory  had 
faded  ;  their  famous  art  was  in  ruins  ;  their 
eloquence  was  dumb ;  their  bravery  was  in 
the  dust ;  their  liberty  was  in  chains  ;  all 
that  was  distinctive  of  the  Hellenes  was  to  be 
found  on  the  page  of  history  or  on  their 
dilapidated  monuments ;  all  that  was  best 
and  valuable  of  these  vanished  peoples  has 
come  down  to  us  on  the  dark  stream  of  time 
through  the  intervening  centuries.  One 
sails  along  the  shore  of  Leucadia  whose  pro- 
jecting headland  is  called  Sappho's  Leap :  — 

"  The  very  spot  where  Sappho  sung 
Her  swan-like  music,  ere  she  sprung 
(Still  holding  in  that  fearful  leap 
By  her  loved  lyre)  into  the  deep, 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       223 

Aud,  dying,  quenched  the  fatal  fire, 
At  once  of  both  her  heart  and  lyre." 

And  beyond  Leucadia  one  views  the  isl- 
and of  Ithaca,  an  upheaved  limestone  ridge, 
once  the  home  of  the  great  Ulysses,  the 
wandering  hero  whose  deeds  were  sung  by 
blind  old  Homer. 

"  As  one  that  for  a  weary  space  has  lain 

Lulled  by  the  song  of  Circe  and  her  wine 
In  gardens  near  the  pale  of  Proserpine, 
Where  the  -^sean  Isle  forgets  the  main. 
And  only  the  low  lutes  of  love  complain, 
And  only  shadows  of  wan  lovers  pine, 
As  such  an  one  were  glad  to  know  the  brine 
Salt  on  his  lips,  and  the  large  air  again, 
So  gladly,  from  the  songs  of  modern  speech 
Men  turn,  and  see  the  stars,  and  feel  the  free 
Shrill  wind  beyond  the  close  of  heavy  flowers  ; 
And  through  the  music  of  the  languid  hours, 
They  hear  like  ocean  on  a  western  beach 
The  surge  and  thunder  of  the  Odyssey." 

"  As  the  morning  sun  illumined  the  rocky 
heights  of  Salamis,  flashed  on  the  Acropo- 
lis, aud  shone  over  the  hills  and  plains  of 
Attica,  we   sailed   across    the  very  waters 


224       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

where  the  mighty  naval  battle  was  fought 
between  the  Greeks  and  Persians  more  than 
twenty-three  centuries  ago,  into  the  harbor 
of  Piraeus.  The  curious  pointed  to  a  rock 
on  our  left,  where  Xerxes,  seated  on  a 
throne,  witnessed  the  defeat  of  his  fleet  and 
sadly  realized  that  his  costly  expedition 
had  come  to  nought." 

The  Acropolis  is  a  solitary  rock  of  semi- 
crystalline  limestone  and  red  schist,  which  had 
doubtless  been  washed  for  ages  by  the  waves 
of  the  old  Pliocene  sea.  "  The  brightest  race 
of  mankind  made  it  in  the  bygone  centuries 
the  point  in  all  the  world  richest  in  art. 
As  one  stands  upon  it,  in  the  midst  of  deso- 
late ruins,  and "  tries  "  to  reconstruct  in 
imagination  its  temples,  theatres,  and  stat- 
ues," he  will  turn  from  the  storied  past, 
and  look  out  upon  its  environment :  "  On  the 
south  is  the  Saronic  Gulf,  with  Salamis  in 
the  foreground,  and  ^gina,  the  fabled 
home  of  the  Myrmidons,  in  the  distance. 
A  breeze  comes  up  from  the  sea  tempering 
the  heat  of  the   sim  shining  '  through  pel- 


MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       225 

lucid    air.'     On    the    southeast     is    Mount 
Hymettus,    still    renowned    as    of  yore  for 
its    honey.     Away    to    the    northeast    and 
north  is    Mount  Pentelicus,   where  marble 
was     quarried  for    temples    and    statuary. 
On  the  northwest  is   Mount   Parnes,  dark 
with    forests  of    pine.     To    the    southwest 
appears   Mount  ^^galeos,   near  the   beauti- 
ful   Bay  of    Salamis.     Within    this    pano- 
rama of    distant    hills,    following  the  same 
circuit   from    the    southeast    round    to    the 
southwest,    one     observes    the    Temple    of 
Olympian    Jupiter,    begun    by     Pisistratus 
and  finished  after  seven  hundred  years  by 
Hadrian,  of  whose  one   hundred  and  thirty 
columns  in  Pentelic  marble  sixteen  still  re- 
main ;    Hadrian's  Triumphal  Arch,  also  of 
Pentelic  marble,  in  the  Corinthian  order ;  the 
monument  of  Lysicrates,  called  the  lantern 
of  Demosthenes  ;  still  nearer,  the  Prytaneum 
or  Senate  House  ;  close  by,  the  ruins  of  the 
Theatre  of    Bacchus,    the    proscenium  and 
orchestra  well  preserved,  built  by  Hadrian 
on  the  site  of  the  ancient  Theatre  of  Diony- 

10* 


226      MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT. 

sus ;  and  right  at  one's  feet  the  remains 
of  a  Roman  Music  Theatre,  erected  on  the 
site  of  the  Odeum  ^  of  Pericles,  of  which 
no  trace  has  been  discovered.  Turning  to 
the  northward,  are  seen  the  remains  of  the 
Doric  Temple  of  Theseus,  with  six  columns 
on  each  front,  thirteen  on  each  flank,  and  the 
Tower  of  the  Winds,  which  still  has  a  sun-dial. 
On  the  west,  reversing  the  order  from  the 
nearer  to  the  more  distant  objects,  appear,  in 
succession,  the  Areopagus,  the  Pnyx,  where 
the  public  assemblies  of  Athenian  citizens 
were  held,  from  which  were  heard  the 
voices  of  the  greatest  orators  of  Greece, 
where  St.  Paul  preached  his  wonderful  ser- 
mon ;  the  prison  of  Socrates,  and  the  tomb 
of  Philopappos,  on  the  Museum  Hill,  with 
its  ruined  walls,  beyond  which  was  the 
Academy  where  Plato  taught.  In  the  val- 
ley of  the  Ilissus,  which  winds  around  the 
southern  side  of  the  city  to  the  west,  may 
be  observed  the  modern  villa  and  gardens 
of  Ilissia,  on  the  site  of  the  ancient  Lyceum, 

1  Music  Hall. 


MEMORIAL    OF   0.   IF.    WIGHT.       227 

where  Aristotle  had  his  school.  Ou  the 
west  of  the  city  is  the  little  river  Cephis- 
sus,  running  south,  in  the  valley  of  which 
the  great  dramatist  Sophocles  spent  his 
youth.  .  .  .  The  Acropolis  was  the  citadel 
of  Athens.  .  .  .  On  the  highest  part  of  the 
Acropolis  stood  the  Parthenon,  the  finest 
building  ever  constructed  in  the  world,  of 
which  the  west  side  still  remains.  I  counted 
six  columns  standing  entire  at  the  Posticum. 
Eight  columns  on  the  front  and  seventeen 
on  the  sides  of  the  Cella  also  remain.  The 
Turks  used  it  as  a  powder-house,  and  it  was 
blown  up  during  a  bombardment  in  1687. 
Nothing  remains  of  the  master  work  of  hu- 
man genius  but  mournful  ruins.  My  eyes 
have  never  beheld  a  sadder  sight." 

After  traveling  through  various  countries 
of  Europe,  and  visiting  the  midnight  sun, 
as  has  been  described.  Dr.  Wight  returned 
to  London,  where  he  made  preparations  for 
a  voyage  to  the  other  side  of  the  globe. 
Ou  the  first  of  September,  1887,  he  left 
England,  by  steamship,  for  Australia,  pass- 


228       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

ing  the  Isle  of  Wight  where  his  ancestors 
lie  buried,  sailing  down  the  west  coast  of 
Europe,  and  between  the  "  pillars  of  Her- 
cules," one  of  them  the  famous  Rock  of 
Gibraltar,  thence  between  Scylla  and  Charyb- 
dis,  the  dread  of  ancient  mariners,  —  in 
view  of  smoking  ^tna,  and  going  on, 
through  the  Suez  Canal  and  the  Red  Sea 
into  the  Indian  Ocean,  in  sight  of  Mount 
Sinai  and  the  spot  that  marked  the  well  of 
Moses.  The  heat  in  the  Suez  Canal  and 
the  Red  Sea  was  intense,  trying,  afflicting, 
—  almost  intolerable.  It  was  a  relief  when 
the  steamship  sailed  out  upon  the  great  In- 
dian Ocean,  where  the  sea  breeze  laden  with 
vapor  absorbed  the  heat  of  the  sun's  rays, 
and  made  it  delightfully  cool  and  pleasant. 
In  the  mighty  steamship,  so  strongly  fash- 
ioned by  the  hand  of  man,  and  guided  by 
man's  genius,  one  is  borne  in  safety  across 
the  sea,  as  if  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep.  On 
and  on  one  goes  day  after  day,  under  the 
stars,  and  under  the  sun,  until  the  broad 
ocean  is  left  behind.     A  thing  of  beauty, 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.    WIGHT.       229 

strength,  and  speed  has  circled  half  of  the 
globe.  "  A  great  ocean  steamer,  like  the 
'  Etruria,'  the  '  Trave,'  the  '  Victoria,'  or  the 
'  Ormuz,'  is  perhaps  the  most  striking  sym- 
bol of  our  wonderful  material  civilization. 
It  is  the  product  of  all  the  ages.*  When  a 
savage  of  genius,  taught  by  the  attempts 
and  failures  of  countless  generations 
dimly  handed  down  by  tradition,  launched 
the  first  successful  canoe,  a  new  era  dawned 
upon  the  struggling  race.  Unnumbered 
centuries  vanished  before  the  bold  Phoe- 
nicians sailed  through  the  Pillars  of  Her- 
cules out  ujjon  the  western  ocean,  or  the 
daring  Norsemen  rowed  their  boats  over 
the  rough  Northern  Sea  to  Iceland.  As 
the  Koman  poet  sang :  — 

"  In  oak  or  triple  brass  his  breast  was  mailed, 
Who  first  committed  to  the  ruthless  deep 
His  fragile  bark,  nor  inly  shrank  and  quailed, 
To  hear  the  headlong  south-wind  fiercely  sweep. 
With  northern  blasts  to  wrestle  and  to  rave  ; 
Nor  feared  to  face  the  tristful  Hyades, 
And  the  wild  tyrant  of  the  western  wave, 
That  lifts  or  calms  at  will  the  restless  sea." 


230       MEMORIAL  OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

The  immense  ocean  is  crossed,  and  Aus- 
tralia and  New  Zealand  are  reached,  —  two 
lands  with  1,200  miles  of  deep  sea  between 
them.  There  the  Aryan  race  has  planted 
new  colonies,  who  have  applied  their  master- 
ful genius  to  subduing  nature  and  making 
her  forces  subservient  to  the  wants  of  man  : 
when  the  clouds  are  empty,  they  bring  up 
water  from  the  depths  of  the  earth  to  irri- 
gate the  desert  and  the  waste  places.  And 
on  the  soil  which  they  make  fruitful,  they 
plant  the  seeds  of  civil  liberty,  and  they  ad- 
vance and  aggrandize  the  many.  After  see- 
ing this  new  civilization,  he  says :  "  From 
Aukland  I  took  ship  for  San  Francisco.  It 
was  my  intention  to  write  another  chapter, 
giving  my  impressions  of  the  Pacific  Ocean 
and  some  of  its  islands,  but  I  was  help- 
less during  nearly  the  whole  voyage  with 
tropical  fever.  After  ten  days  spent  in  con- 
valescence on  the  Pacific  coast,  I  crossed  the 
North  American  continent  to  my  home,  I 
had  started  eastward,  and  kept  going  east- 
ward till  I  returned.     The  more  one  travels, 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       231 

the  more  one  realizes  that  all  peoples,  from 
the  beginning  of  the  world,  in  all  lands, 
have  been  toiling  in  every  field  of  human 
endeavor,  material,  mental,  and  moral,  and 
that  each  generation  inherits  all  the  fruits 
and  toils  of  the  past :  '  Other  men  have 
labored  and  ye  are  entered  into  their  la- 
bors." 


XXIT. 

In  Detroit  Dr.  Wight  had  many  warm 
friends  who  gave  him  a  cordial  reception, 
after  returning  from  his  long,  winding  jour- 
ney around  the  world.  He  had  looked  for 
rest,  and  had  not  found  it.  Or  if  he  had, 
tropical  fever  had  used  up  the  store  of  re- 
newed strength.  A  brief  letter  from  San 
Francisco  related  how  he  had  been  injured 
in  a  storm  at  sea,  when  the  great  ship  stag- 
gered under  the  blow  of  a  heavy  wave,  and 
threw  him,  as  well  as  others,  against  what- 
ever came  in  the  way :  in  the  mean  time  he 
seemed  to  recover  slowly  from  the  injury. 

Even  while  sick  and  in  distress,  he  began 
to  write  an  account  of  his  travels,  giving  his 
observations  on  the  society,  government,  and 
institutions  of  the  various  Aryan  peoples  he 
had  visited,  and  recording  their  progress  to- 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT.       233 

wards  a  higher  civilization  and  a  better  civil 
liberty.  He  entitled  his  book  "  A  Winding 
Journey  around  the  World."  It  would  be 
impossible  to  condense  the  matter  of  this 
work.  The  work  is  already  in  a  condensed 
form.  It  contains  a  readable  account  of  his 
earlier  journeys  abroad,  at  a  time  when  he 
was  looking  forward.  In  the  "  Winding 
Journey,"  the  views  and  statements  given  are 
of  remarkable  breadth  and  scope,  showing 
the  extent  of  his  study,  the  ripeness  of  his 
scholarship,  and  the  fertility  of  his  genius, 
as  well  as  the  profundity  of  his  learning. 
Of  each  people,  each  nation,  through  whose 
territory,  whose  land,  he  journeyed,  he  gives 
an  epitome,  describing  manners,  customs,  and 
society  ;  politics,  governments,  and  institu- 
tions ;  science,  art,  and  literature  ;  in  fine, 
noting  progress,  present  condition,  and  hopes 
of  the  future.  And  through  all  runs  one 
great  guiding  principle,  one  dominant 
thought,  one  eternal  purpose,  one  supreme 
law  :  The  evolution  of  man  under  the  order 
of  a  universal  and  unalterable  Providence, 


234       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

The  first  edition  of  his  book  of  travels  was 
published  in  Detroit,  and  largely  sold  by 
subscription  in  that  city.  In  the  meantime, 
the  doctor  went  to  Milwaukee,  where  a  large 
circle  of  friends  gave  him  an  enthusiastic 
welcome,  and  where  a  large  number  of  coj)ies 
of  his  book  were  sold.  A  contract  had  been 
made  with  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Co.,  to 
publish  a  new  edition  in  the  east.  They 
brought  out  the  book  in  an  improved  form. 
And  one  can  always  admire  their  excellent 
work. 

The  severe  labor  of  writing  this  book  and 
the  effects  of  tropical  fever  exhausted  his 
strong  constitution  and  broke  down  his 
hfealth.  Yet  it  must  be  remembered  that  he 
had  been  a  ceaseless  worker,  a  laborious 
student,  a  voluminous  writer,  giving  himself 
no  rest  for  many  years,  knowing  that  this 
life  is  short  and  trying  to  make  the  most  of 
it.  In  time  the  strongest  natures  and  the 
most  vigorous  constitutions  yield  to  the  in- 
roads made  by  the  stress  and  strain  of  inces- 
sant toil.  He  was  no  exception  to  toiling, 
perishing  mortality :  "  And  he,  shall  he, 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       235 

•  •••••• 

Who  loved,  who  suffered  countless  ills, 
Who  battled  for  the  true,  the  just. 
Be  blown  about  the  desert  dust. 
Or  sealed  within  the  iron  hills  ?  " 

The  author  of  this  biography,  knowing 
that  his  brother  was  not  very  well  before  his 
long  journey  around  the  globe,  had  advised 
him  not  to  go  over  into  Asia.  After  his 
voyage  to  Australia  he  knew  by  letters  that 
he  had  not  become  strong  again  ;  but  he 
was  not  informed  as  to  the  serious  changes 
that  had  taken  place  in  his  health.  He  had 
expected  him  to  come  to  his  home  in  Brook- 
lyn in  a  few  weeks  after  the  publication  of 
the  book  of  travels.  He  had  written  in  the 
mean  time,  and  had  received  answer  that  the 
traveler  and  writer  had  still  some  tropical 
fever.  At  that  time  some  advice  was  sent, 
as  well  as  such  a  thing  can  be  done.  For 
it  is  very  difficult  to  give  advice,  without 
seeing  and  examining  the  patient.  Soon 
after  came  a  copy  of  the  neio  hook.  It  had 
been  finished,  and  was  well  done.    Its  author 


236       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

wrote  that  he  was  going  to  Milwaukee :  this 
brought  excitement,  when  rest  was  needed  ; 
the  fever  burned  anew ;  and  then  he  has- 
tened back  to  Detroit. 

One  day  in  October*,  1888,  came  the  an- 
nouncement that  Dr.  O.  W.  Wight  was  ill, 
perhaps  seriously  ill,  that  he  seemed  to  be 
slowly  losing  strength.  He  had  returned 
from  Milwaukee,  and  had  suffered  from  a 
severe  chill,  when  fever  had  followed  with 
exhaustion  and  prostration.  Kind  friends 
cared  for  him,  and  in  a  few  days,  with  my 
consent,  removed  him  to  Harper's  Hospital, 
where  he  had  everything  that  medical  skill 
and  good  nursing  could  do  for  him.  In  the 
meantime  word  was  sent  as  to  his  condition, 
and  soon  the  request  for  me  to  hasten  to 
Detroit.  In  as  much  haste  as  possible  the 
journey  was  undertaken.  Strange  thoughts 
and  feelings  came  to  mind  and  heart,  as  the 
steamcar  sped  on.  The  changing  day  turned 
into  the  changeful  night.  And  then  the  sun 
of  a  new  day  rose  clear  and  bright.  In 
the  crisp  air  and  in  the  forenoon  light,  the 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       237 

steamcar  curved  along  the  shore  of  Lake 
Erie  beyond  Buffalo.  The  same  lake  is 
there,  but  the  restless  water  is  not  the  same, 
as  in  the  past.  One  is  carried  back  in  mem- 
ory through  the  years  that  have  gone,  and 
faint  outlines  of  half-forgotten  things  strug- 
gle to  reappear ;  a  dim  picture  of  vanished 
scenes  rises  before  the  eyes,  and  a  composite 
made  of  reminiscences  and  the  present  is 
more  like  a  dream  than  a  reality.  The  car 
glides  on  towards  the  mist  and  roar  of  the 
eternal  cataract.  The  bridge,  with  which 
the  genius  of  man  has  spanned  the  walled 
river,  is  crossed,  and  we  tarry  by  the  ex- 
panding, rushing,  falling,  roaring  waters. 
They  seem  to  stand  for  a  moment  upon  the 
terrible  brink,  and  then,  like  the  south  wind, 
plunge  headlong  into  the  turmoil  of  the 
mighty  chasm  below.  One  has  strange  im- 
pressions and  feelings  made  by  the  acceler- 
ating velocity  of  the  compact  mass  as  it 
curves  and  falls  ceaselessly  into  the  rising 
spray  and  seething  foam,  as  if  the  spirit  of 
the  water  had  become  angry  and  was  throw- 


238       MEMORIAL  OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

ing  itself  eternally  into  tlie  abyss  of  destruc- 
tion, and  had  then  risen  into  a  new  life, 
hurrying  and  rushing  onward  toward  the 
whirling  and  hurling  rapids,  to  beat  and 
lash  itself  into  utter  exhaustion,  and  thence 
flowing  on  in  the  majestic  and  placid  river 
to  the  next  inland  sea.  One  could  feel  as 
well  as  see  the  motion  of  the  great  cataract, 
in  which  gravic  force  is  correlated  into  the 
pulverization  of  the  solid  rocks.  I  had  seen 
the  exhibition  of  this  mighty  power  and  maj- 
esty before.  But  now  other  and  different 
thoughts  came  to  my  mind :  I  had  studied 
the  mighty  forces  that  move  the  sun  and  his 
dependent  family  of  planets ;  that  stretch 
across  the  abyss  from  world  to  world,  and 
from  star  to  star  ;  that  upheave  the  crust  of 
the  earth  and  the  envelope  of  the  sun ;  that 
extend  through  the  illimitable  spaces  of  the 
universe,  and  turn  to  bind  all  things  into 
one,  under  universal  Providence  ;  and  I  had 
thought,  and  was  then  thinking,  upon  the  in- 
finite expansion  of  eternity  beyond,  with  all 
its  un fathomed  mysteries  ;    and  then  over- 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       239 

shadowed  by  the  magnitude  of  these  greater 
things,  the  awful  cataract  seemed  to  diminish 
until  it  was  a  brook-fall  fit  to  turn  a  mimic 
wat%r-wheel  for  a  truant  schoolboy ;  and  yet 
the  very  spirit  of  immensity  and  eternity 
would  anon  rise  toward  the  overarching 
bow,  and  force  itself  to  appear  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  waters  which  seemed  to  be  fall- 
ing eternally. 

On  reaching  Detroit,  I  at  once  drove  to 
Harper's  Hospital,  and  saw  the  sick  man 
with  conflicting  emotions.  It  was  my  desire 
to  have  him  get  well,  and  so  there  seemed 
to  be  some  hope.  But  after  consultation 
with  his  good  physician,  Dr.  Book,  it  did  not 
seem  as  if  he  could  live  much  longer.  The 
strong  man  was  broken  into  incurable  weak- 
ness. But  the  feeble,  feverish  body  still 
held  the  same  courageous  heart,  the  same  in- 
domitable spirit,  the  same  soul  that  was  obe- 
dient to  God  and  his  laws.  Time  was  not 
now  looking  backward :  it  was  still  the 
watchword  of  a  heroic  life  —  ever  forward. 
I  asked  him  if  he   had   anything  to  say  to 


240       MEMORIAL   OF  O.   W.   WIGHT. 

me  ;  with  great  effort  he  said  slowly,  the 
words  standing  far  apart,  "  There  are  two 
expansions.^^  Then  I  knew  that  the  hour  of 
his  departure  was  at  hand,  that  his  life  Jiere 
was  closing,  and  that  it  was  opening  to  that 
which  lies  beyond.  I  knew  well  his  modes 
of  thought  and  the  way  in  which  he  viewed 
things  :  I  knew  he  was  contemplating  the 
expansion  which  lies  beyond  time  and  space. 
He  told  me  by  signs  that  he  did  not  desire 
to  get  well,  that  his  life  had  been  all  labor, 
and  that  he  wished  to  go.  And  so  I  laid  his 
head  upon  the  pillow,  and  he  seemed  to  be 
satisfied. 

And  so  our  ceaseless  toil  ends  in  a  hand- 
ful of  dust,  —  with  a  hope  of  immortality 
beyond.  And  it  were  well  to  have  it  even 
so,  for  so  God  hath  shaped  it.  Yet  it 
seemed  as  if  fortune  had  flung  me  back 
through  all  the  fleeting  vanished  years, 
which  had  been  crushed  into  one  supreme 
moment  without  pity.  Again  the  two  eter- 
nities meet.  And  now  the  work  of  one  is 
done.     At  last  rest  has  come  to  weary  feet, 


MEMORIAL   OF   0.   W.   WIGHT.        241 

—  Fame  !  so  poor,  so  little,  and  so  low,  one 
could  not  hear  her  song,  —  it  were  better 
yet  to  live,  if  rightly  so,  even  though  it 
were  here ;  but  it  were  better  yet  to  live  be- 
yond, where  that  which  causes  death  must  die, 
and  leave  our  better  life  wholly  emancipated. 

"  But  when  those  others,  one  by  one, 
Withdrew  themselves  from  me  and  night, 
And  in  the  house  light  after  light 
Went  out,  and  I  was  all  alone, 

"  A  hunger  seized  my  heart  ;  I  read 
Of  that  glad  year  that  once  had  been, 
In  those  fallen  leaves  which  kept  their  green, 
The  noble  letters  of  the  dead  : 

'  *  And  strangely  on  the  silence  broke 
The  silent-speaking  words,  and  strange 
Was  love's  dumb  cry  defying  change 
To  test  his  worth ;   and  strangely  spoke 

"  The  faith,  the  vigor,  bold  to  dwell 
On  doubts  that  drive  the  coward  back, 
And  keen,  thro'  wordy  snares  to  track 
Suggestion  to  her  inmost  cell. 

"  So  word  by  word,  and  line  by  line, 
f^>^^  The  dead  man  touch'd  me  from  the  past, 
11 


242       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

And  all  at  once  it  seemed  at  last 
His  living  soul  was  flashed  on  mine, 

"  And  mine  in  his  was  wound,  and  whirl'd 
About  empyreal  heights  of  thought. 
And  came  on  that  which  is,  and  caught 
The  deep  pulsations  of  the  world. 

"  Ionian  music  measuring  out 
The  steps  of  Time,  the  shocks  of  Chance, 
The  blows  of  Death." 


,,-^.  -^.2), 


HfcLIOTYpe    PRIKTINO  CO.    BOSTON. 


XXIII. 

Thus  lived  and  wrought  a  self-made  man, 
—  and  so  his  labor  ceased.  All  that  is 
mortal  of  him  lies  under  the  sod  of  Green- 
wood, at  rest.  He  was  placed  in  kindred 
dust  by  loving  hands.  He  laid  down  by 
the  wayside,  where  the  stone  casts  a  shadow 
behind  the  sun  of  the  afternoon  of  life. 
His  pillow  was  the  weary  and  pathetic  dust 
of  silent  suffering.  And  yet  it  may  be,  it 
must  be,  best.  This  brave  and  tender  soul 
loved  the  good,  the  beautiful,  the  true. 
And  now  he  rests  beyond  every  storm  of 
life.  His  spirit  has  vanished  into  the 
viewless  eternity.  How  brief  the  stay,  the 
storm,  the  struggle  here  !  How  endless  is 
the  eternity  beyond  !  And  yet  we  linger  a 
little  while  to  recount  some  of  the  things 
he  did,  —  a  few  of  the  many  he  did  so  well. 


244       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

Union  College  conferred  on  Lira  the  de- 
gree of  Master  of  Arts,  while  he  resided  at 
Rye.  He  had  not  been  educated  at  any 
college  or  university.  This  was  a  timely 
recognition  of  his  learning,  his  attainments, 
and  his  success  in  the  field  of  literature. 
About  the  same  time,  the  degree  of  Master 
of  Arts  was  given  him  by  Yale  College.  This 
distinction  he  had  earned  by  his  own  efforts. 
It  was  in  some  way  a  compensation  for  the 
studies  and  toils  of  his  youth,  when  he  had 
to  work  his  own  way  in  every  field  of  know- 
ledge and  learning.  These  degrees  were 
not  conferred  as  a  matter  of  course,  when 
there  had  been  three  years  of  waiting  af- 
ter a  four  years'  curriculum.  They  were 
given  because  they  were  deserved,  on  ac- 
count of  the  merit,  the  learning,  and  the  suc- 
cess of  the  recipient.  These  honors  were 
gratifying  to  his  laudable  ambition.  He 
had  conquered  the  fields  of  learning  up  to 
the  lines  set  by  these  deserved  honors,  and 
had  gone  a  long  way  beyond  them.  But 
they  were  some  encouragement,  —  an  in- 
centive to  work  in  the  future. 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       245 

That  he  was  ambitious,  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  Take  away  all  that  the  word  am- 
hition  means  and  implies  and  it  would  be 
necessary  to  rewrite  the  history  of  the 
world.  And  when  it  had  been  rewritten, 
we  would  find  our  historian  under  the  spell 
of  ambition,  —  and  his  history  would  be  of 
little  worth.  The  ambition  that  leads  to 
the  performance  of  great  deeds,  that  aims 
at  the  liberty,  elevation,  and  happiness  of 
the  many,  must  not  be  thrown  away.  It 
is  neither  criminal  nor  sinful :  it  is  praise- 
worthy to  the  extent  that  it  lifts  us  up  and 
draws  others  unto  us.  This  was  the  nature 
of  his  ambition.  It  was  this  that  moved 
him  to  his  ceaseless  labor.  It  was  this  that 
sustained  him  to  the  last.  It  was  this  that 
inspired  his  vision  when  the  end  came. 

That  he  longed  for  fame  was  certainly 
true.  To  aspire  to  eminence  was  no  new 
thing.  Others  had  so  longed  and  so  as- 
pired. To  be  a  leader  among  men,  not 
from  material  power,  but  from  intellectual 
force,  was   laudable   and   desirable.     Have 


246       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

there  not  been  a  long  line  of  worthies,  as  we 
traverse  the  centuries,  from  Plato  to  Des- 
cartes, from  Aristotle  to  Bacon,  from  Thucyd- 
ides  to  Gibbon,  from  Democritus  to  Darwin, 
from  Homer  to  Shakespeare,  whose  names 
and  works  have  been  remembered  ?  Their 
fame  has  extended  into  all  lands.  They  are 
the  world's  inheritance.  A-  new  motion  has 
been  given  to  society,  government,  and  civil- 
ization, in  all  lands,  because  these  men  have 
lived.  Such  fame  as  they  have  achieved,  if 
rightly  and  fully  earned,  was  not  foreign  to 
his  wish.  He  desired  to  be  in  the  company 
of  the  great,  the  good,  and  the  wise. 

All  along  his  eventful  life  he  has  been  as- 
sociated with  the  press.  No  one  knew  bet- 
ter how  much  has  been  done  for  the  world 
by  the  invention  of  printing.  He  appreci- 
ated how  liberty  and  happiness  increased  by 
the  diffusion  of  knowledge.  Something  of 
what  has  happened  to  the  advantage  of  man 
during  the  brief  existence  of  the  press  may 
be  seen  in  the  following  words  taken  from 
one  of  his  speeches  :  — 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.        247 

"  In  reofard  to  the  influence  on  society  of 
the  mingled  good  and  evil  of  the  press,  it 
may  be  remarked  that  the  former  is  per- 
manent and  the  latter  transitory.  The  good 
that  men  do  is  not  interred  with  their  bones. 
The  evil  that  they  do  lives  not  long  after 
them.  The  Almighty  has  so  attuned  the 
soul  of  man  that  it  responds  with  tones  of 
harmony  to  every  touch  of  truth  and  beauty. 
On  the  other  hand  the  touch  of  falsehood 
and  deformity  jangle  it  like  sweet  bells  out 
of  tune.  Good  is  eternal.  Evil  is  a  perish- 
able accident.  The  air  of  Heaven  is  so  con- 
stituted that  it  transmits  harmonies  and  ar- 
rests discords.  In  like  manner,  human 
society  is  so  fashioned  by  the  hand  of  its 
Maker  that  it  rejects  the  evil  poured  out  to 
it  from  the  press  and  absorbs  the  good  as 
nutriment  into  its  very  growth.  .  .  . 

"  In  conclusion,  it  may  be  said  without  any 
exaggeration  that  the  wonderful  progress 
of  modern  society  dates  from  the  invention 
of  printing.  In  the  Oriental  fable  a  voice 
that    was  frozen    into    silence    subsequently 


248       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

thawed  and  became  audible.  The  lips  of  an- 
tiquity were  dumb  in  the  chilly  atmosphere 
of  the  Dark  Ages,  but  they  were  warmed  into 
eloquence  by  the  rising  sun  of  the  Renais- 
sance, after  Tyndall  had  printed  the  Bible. 
The  press  restored  to  mankind  the  wisdom  of 
the  ancient  world.  Thanks  to  the  scholar- 
ship and  the  invention  of  Germany,  the  lyr- 
ics of  Pindar  and  Horace,  the  deeper  melody 
of  Homer  and  Virgil,  the  trumpet  tones  of 
liberty  in  Demosthenes  and  Cicero,  the  sci- 
ence of  Aristotle,  the  thought  of  Plato,  the 
compact  narratives  of  Thucydides  and  Taci- 
tus, the  Philosophy  of  Greece  and  the  ju- 
risprudence of  Eome,  are  brought  within  the 
reach  of  the  humblest  scholar.  The  press 
embalms  for  us  the  souls  of  the  dead.  The 
spirits  of  Dante  and  Shakespeare,  of  Leo- 
nardo da  Yinci  and  Leibnitz,  of  Bacon  and 
Descartes,  of  Cervantes  and  Milton,  of 
Spinoza  and  La  Place,  hover  this  side  of 
the  eternal  world  in  the  mysterious  drapery 
of  printed  words. 

"  I  pause  on  the  threshold  of  a  theme  as 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       249 

vast  as  the  world's  literature.  At  a  ban- 
quet given  in  honor  of  rare  eloquence  and 
political  genius,  it  has  seemed  to  me  best  to 
recall  the  several  features  of  a  subject  that 
lies  at  the  roots  of  our  government  and  is 
interwoven  with  the  destiny  of  the  Repub- 
lic." .  .  . 

In  his  literary  productions,  he  was  clear, 
definitive,  incisive,  earnest,  fearless,  honest. 
He  has  been  a  voluminous  writer.  And  the 
guiding  principle  in  all  was  truth :  the  truth 
was  better  than  any  man ;  it  was  higher  than 
anything  which  man  did.  His  work  was 
like  that  of  the  knight-errant :  to  set  things 
right  that  had  gone  wrong ;  to  aid  in  the 
evolution  of  man  to  a  higher  good.  We  may 
listen  to  what  he  says  of  William  Words- 
worth :  "  He  spoke  as  the  unsophisticated 
child .  always  speaks,  from  the  heart.  Ser- 
pent critics  might  hiss,  but  his  time  was  too 
precious  to  waste  with  them.  He  who  is 
conversing  with  angels  feels  not  the  bite  of 
vipers.     He  has  other  than  carnal  weapons 

with   which   to   bruise   their   heads.     Born 

11* 


250       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

among  the  hills,  the  favorite  of  nature,  what 
did  Wordsworth  care  for  Jeffrey's  ridicule,  or 
the  neglect  of  contemporaries  ?  More  than 
half  a  century  he  wrote  and  lived  poetry. 
Hills  and  mountains  put  on  for  him  looks 
of  benediction ;  Nature  smiled  upon  him 
in  flowers,  and  sung  to  him  her  love  with 
warbling  tongues.  He  could  afford  to  be 
laughed  at  by  the  foolish,  to  be  hooted  at  by 
literary  owls.  What  had  he  to  do  with  the 
world's  approbation  ?  He  was  a  born  poet, 
and  could  not  listen  to  the  cry  of  critic  or 
multitude.  Like  a  benign  spirit,  he  brooded 
over  the  world  of  affection  and  sentiment, 
and  in  being  true  to  these,  he  was  true  to 
himself.  His  voice  has  been  borne  on  the 
bosom  of  the  mountain  wind,  and  already 
the  ear  of  humanity  is  ravished  by  its  kindly 
tone.  An  age  of  imitation  never  recognizes 
the  inspired  teacher  who  is  true  to  man  in 
being  true  to  his  own  nature.  Just  so  far  as 
the  spirit  of  the  times  is  false  will  the  true 
poet  be  neglected.  The  one  who  tacks  to 
catch    the    popular   breeze   may   run   with 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.        251 

rapidity,  —  alas,  not  often  heavenwards. 
When  the  multitude  are  repenting,  woe  to 
those  who  have  received  their  greatest  fa- 
vors, and  joy  to  those  who  have  raised  heroic 
and  prophetic  voices  of  warning  and  true 
guidance  !  Happy  the  age  in  which  a  strong, 
devout  soul  converses  with  the  spirit  of  the 
universe  in  the  hearing  of  men  I  Words  of 
bitterness  and  of  jest  may  be  thoughtlessly 
uttered,  but  many  shall  learn  to  worship  ; 
seeing  the  light  of  consecrated  genius  that 
shines  in  truth  and  sincerity,  they  shall 
learn  to  glorify  Him  whose  most  perfect 
image  is  the  divinest  poet." 

And  here  we  revert  to  philosophy;  in  a 
few  words  the  evolution  of  the  human  mind 
is  pictured :  "  The  philosopher,  starting  with 
full  faith  in  the  integrity  of  his  intellectual 
nature,  believes  that  he  has  knowledge,  not 
merely  of  his  own  sensational  states,  but  also 
of  the  existence  of  things,  as  consciousness 
clearly  attests.  This  faith  in  reason  is  com- 
mon to  all  philosophers.  Philosophy,  in  its 
strictest  meaning,  is  the  thinking  of  thought. 


252       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT. 

a  science  of  the  liiiman  mind  whose  veracity 
is  an  object  of  belief.     When  mind  is  turned 
inward  upon  itself,  when  it  applies  itself  to 
the  observances  of  its  own  powers,  when  it 
searches  after  the  laws  of  its  own  manifes- 
tations, when  it  watches  itself  in  the  act  of 
acquiring  knowledge,  when  it  follows  itself 
through  the  various  operations  of  sensation, 
perception,   reasoning,   doubting,   believing, 
etc.,  then  the  work  of   philosophizing  has 
been    seriously    begun.      That    philosophy 
should  at  once  be  achieved,  that  it  should 
leap  into  existence  without  defect,  without 
blemish,   complete    and   divinely   beautiful, 
like  Athene,  or  Wisdom,  from  the  brain  of 
Zeus,  or  the  Supreme  Intelligence,  no  man 
could  expect.     Every  science  has  been  the 
growth  of  ages.     It  is  no  more  wonderful 
that   opinions   have   differed    in    regard   to 
questions  of  philosophy  than  that  they  have 
differed  in  regard  to  questions  of  chemistry. 
The  chemist  is  certain  in  regard  to   some 
things ;  and  as  much  may  be  said  of  the 
philosopher.     The  earliest  cultivators  of  any 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   \V.   WIGHT.       253 

science  find  out  a  few  facts,  which  are  none 
the  less  facts  for  being  mingled  with  many 
errors.  When  a  science  is  more  fully  de- 
veloped and  fairly  achieved,  then  a  wise 
historical  retrospect  may  clearly  discriminate 
between  error  and  fact,  and  point  out  the 
progress  that  has  been  made  by  decrease  of 
the  former,  and  increase  of  the  latter.  Phi- 
losophy, the  most  difficult  of  all  sciences, 
must,  in  the  nature  of  things,  be  the  first 
to  be  established,  the  last  to  be  perfected. 
Scientific  investigation,  of  whatever  kind, 
can  proceed  only  with  the  aid  of  intellectual 
instruments  given  by  philosophy.  It  must 
always  be  remembered  that  in  the  simplest 
physical  sciences  the  mind  is  the  investiga- 
tor ;  unless  it  strictly  obey  laws  which  are 
derived  solely  from  itself,  it  will  arrive  at 
nothing  or  error.  Without  the  Greek  met- 
aphysicians and  the  schoolmen,  there  had 
been  no  modern  science.  Science  sometimes 
shows  her  folly  and  ingratitude  by  ignor- 
ing her  super-sensual  helper,  without  whose 
aid  she  could  not  even   know  that  a  phe- 


254       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   \V.    WIGHT. 

nomenon  has  a  cause,  and  would  thus  lose 
the  primary  stimulus  of  her  wonderful  ac- 
tivity." 

We  pass  from  the  philosophic  and  the 
poetic  to  the  pathetic  realism  of  storm  and 
disaster,  when  the  winds  are  let  loose  and 
drive  the  abode  of  the  mariner  to  wreckage 
and  destruction.  And  so  it  has  been,  and 
so  it  will  be  again  ;  some  are  lost  and  some 
are  saved.  Safe  is  the  open  sea,  and  safe  is 
the  solid  land :  but  where  sea  and  land  meet 
and  wrestle,  danger  and  peril  wander  up  and 
down,  as  if  they  made  the  mournful  music  of 
the  troubled  shore.  We  give  only  the  pic- 
ture of  the  wreck  and  loss:  "On  the  seventh 
of  May,  1850,  they  embarked  on  board  the 
'  Elizabeth '  for  the  New  World,  leaving  be- 
hind them  the  blackened  fields  of  revolution, 
and  that  Kome  which  has  been  the  arena  of 
contending  civilizations  during  a  period  of 
more  than  a  hundred  generations  of  men. 
The  only  other  passengers  were  a  young 
Italian  girl  and  Mr.  Horace  Sumner,  of 
Boston.     Captain  Harty  died  on  the  third 


I 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.  WIGHT.       255 

of  June,  off  Gibraltar,  with  the  confluent 
small -pox.  The  mate  took  the  command. 
Ten  days  after,  little  Angelino  sickened  with 
the  same  frightful  disease,  and  barely  sur- 
vived. Alas  !  when  misfortunes  come^  they 
come  not  single  sjnes,  but  in  fierce  battal- 
ions. July  fifteenth  the  barque  was  off 
the  Jersey  coast,  somewhere  between  Cape 
May  and  Barnegat.  It  was  about  noon. 
Trunks  were  packed,  in  expectation  of  land- 
ing next  morning.  About  nine  o'clock  in 
the  evening  the  breeze  rose  to  a  gale.  Sails 
were  close-reefed,  but  currents  and  tempest 
drove  the  vessel  faster  than  any  knew  to- 
wards the  sandbars  of  Long  Island.  About 
four  o'clock  the  next  morning  she  struck. 
Her  broadside  was  exposed  to  the  merciless 
blows  of  the  enraged  sea.  The  brine  rushed 
through  the  broken  bottom.  The  crash  of 
fallmg  timbers  and  the  roar  of  waves  that 
swept  over  her  were  fearfully  mingled.  The 
foaming  spray  quenched  the  lights,  and  the 
cabin-door  was  unhinged  by  the  mad-rushing 
water.     The  words :  '  We  must  die !     Let 


256       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

Its  die  calmly  then,^  were  shrilly  uttered 
above  the  heavy  thunder  of  the  ocean's  roar. 
Prayer  gushed  up  in  agony  from  despairing 
hearts.  Kindly  and  encouraging  words  of 
parting  were  spoken ;  and  messages,  stamped 
with  the  priceless  value  of  dying  utterance, 
were  intrusted  to  each  other  for  absent 
friends,  if  perchance  some  one  might  sur- 
vive. The  crew  were  on  the  forecastle,  and 
the  passengers  in  the  cabin.  Across  the 
vessel  amidships,  between  them,  the  heavy 
seas  were  at  measured  intervals  sweeping. 
Mrs.  Harty,  the  wife  of  the  deceased  cap- 
tain, beckoned  at  the  cabin  door,  and  was 
observed  by  Davis,  the  mate.  It  was  about 
seven  in  the  morning,  and  the  cabin  threat- 
ened to  break  up.  The  sailors  were  ordered 
to  the  rescue,  but  refused  to  go.  Davis, 
holding  fast  to  the  bulwarks,  and  stopping 
while  the  seas  combed  over  him,  crossed  to 
the  passengers.  Two  of  the  brave  sailors 
followed  him.  The  passengers  with  great 
difficulty  and  peril  were  conveyed  to  the 
forecastle.     On  the  shore,  not  far  off,  were 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       2d1 

wreckers,  heartless  as  the  dreary  sand-hills 
washed  by  the  cold  waves.  One  sailor, 
aided  by  a  life-preserver,  reached  the  strand. 
Another,  supported  by  a  spar,  followed  in 
safety.  Mr.  Sumner  made  the  attempt,  and 
was  swallowed  up  by  the  ocean.  Mrs.  Harty, 
seated  upon  a  plank,  holding  fast  by  handles 
of  rope,  supported  by  Davis  and  a  brave 
sailor,  reached  the  shore  almost  lifeless. 
Margaret  refused  to  be  separated  from  her 
husband  and  child.  The  day  wore  away, 
and  at  length,  about  three  o'clock,  most  of 
the  crew  jumped  overboard,  only  part  of 
whom  gained  the  beach.  Four  seamen  yet 
remained  with  the  passengers.  The  cabin 
had  gone,  and  the  stern  of  the  ship  had  sunk 
out  of  sight.  At  length  the  foremast  fell, 
carrying  with  it  the  deck  and  all  upon  it. 
Two  of  the  seamen  clung  to  the  mast  and 
were  saved  ;  the  rest  were  lost.  The  child 
touched  the  shore  of  the  New  World,  warm 
but  lifeless.  Margaret  sank  at  once.  When 
last  seen,  she  had  been  seated  at  the  foot  of 
the  foremast,  still  clad  in  her  white  night- 


258       MEMORIAL   OF   0.   W.   WIGHT. 

dress,  with  her  hair  fallen  loose  upon  her 
shoulders.  It  was  over  —  that  twelve  hours' 
communion  face  to  face  with  death!  It  was 
over !  and  the  prayer  was  granted,  That  Os- 
soli,  Angelino,  and  I  may  go  together^  and 
that  the  anguish  may  he  hriefy  In  these 
words  we  have  a  vivid  picture  of  the  fate 
of  Margaret  Fuller  Ossoli,  than  which  none 
can  be  more  pathetic,  none  more  tragic. 
And  it  was  none  the  less  tragic,  none  the 
less  pathetic,  because  the  prayer  seemed  to 
be  answered.  To  go  through  the  wreck  and 
the  storm,  —  leaving  the  roar  of  the  tempest 
and  meeting  the  sweetness  of  the  silence,  — 
what  a  fate ! 

Science,  philosophy,  realism,  and  duty  in- 
spire the  following  paragraph,  in  which  is 
aptly  described  the  dual  obligation  of  the 
physician  to  heal  and  teach :  "In  our  pro- 
fession, we  have  to  deal  not  only  with  form 
and  structure,  but  also  with  the  visitations 
of  Providence  in  the  form  of  disease.  Man, 
by  his  ignorance  and  waywardness,  has  vio- 
lated the  laws  of  the  Almighty,  and  the  con- 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.  WIGHT.       259 

sequences  of  such  isolation  are  visited  upon 
him,  involving  the  innocent  as  well  as  the 
guilty.  Fearful  problems  of  life  are  there- 
fore i3resented  to  us  at  every  step  in  our 
course.  It  is  our  business  to  perpetually 
teach  as  well  as  heal.  Upon  our  diligence, 
caution,  promptness,  soundness  of  judgment, 
often  hang  the  issues  of  life  and  death.  We 
tread  among  open  graves,  while  suppliants 
around  us  extend  their  trembling  hands  to 
us  as  ministers  of  God's  healing  art,  revealed 
through  patient  investigation  to  a  perishing 
world.  It  is  a  sacrilege  to  approach  the 
great  work  without  due  preparation.  The 
dearest  interests  of  the  living  are  committed 
to  our  keeping,  and  no  man  whose  honor  is 
not  fire-proof  should  be  allowed  to  wear  the 
badge  or  hold  the  diploma  of  the  medical 
profession.  Moreover,  it  should  not  be  for- 
gotten that  a  true  practitioner  will  seek  the 
reward  that  comes  from  a  consciousness  of 
duty  performed  as  well  as  the  compensation 
of  material  gain." 


XXIV. 

"  My  heart  leaps  up  when  I  behold 
A  rainbow  in  the  sky  ; 
So  was  it  when  my  life  began  ; 
So  is  it  now  I  am  a  man  ; 
So  let  it  be  when  I  grow  old, 
Or  let  me  die." 

And  so  there  comes  an  hour  to  every  one 
that  lives,  —  a  momentary  fragment  of  time, 
—  when  all  that  eye  can  see,  or  ear  can 
hear,  or  hand  can  touch,  seems  like  the 
shadow  of  a  summer  cloud  as  it  speeds 
upon  the  shore,  —  and  when  there  is  a 
vision  of  things  new  and  strange,  —  an 
ins2?iration  of  "  something  deeply  inter- 
fused," of  something  besides  the  transient 
forms  that  meet  us  on  every  hand :  and 
what  this  spirit  is  we  do  not  know.  And 
when   our   eyes,  and  ears,    and   hands   are 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.    W.    WIGHT.       261 

weary,  we  rest  and  think,  —  and  then  we 
say :  these  motions  that  our  common  senses 
feel  are  only  fragment  of  the  eternal  mo- 
tions that  a  higher  sense  reveals. 

"  Strong  Sou  of  God,  immortal  Love, 
Whom  we,  tliat  have  not  seen  Thy  face, 
By  faith,  and  faith  alone,  embrace, 
Believing  where  we  cannot  prove. " 

The  earth,  and  moon,  and  sun,  that  rise 
and  fall,  and  all  the  wandering  host  of 
worlds  beyond,  as  turned  and  swung  by  cos- 
mic law,  in  all  their  complicated  and  endless 
motions,  are  revelations  to  the  seer,  in  every 
clime,  in  every  land.  They  are  but  shad- 
ows of  things  to  be  ;  and  as  they  move, 
they  tend  to  one  far-off  event ;  and  the 
story  that  they  tell  to  him  who  is  the  seer 
must  needs  be  true,  and  runs  in  words 
which  make  it  clear  that  the  universe  of 
God  is  one.  That  two  there  cannot  be  : 
all  worlds,  all  suns,  are  one  ;  under  the  do- 
minion of  universal  law,  all  things  evolve  ; 
a  providence  of  good  unfolds  the  smallest 
flower  and  turns  the  greatest  sun. 


262       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT. 

Inspiration  and  revelation  have  come  to 
all  peoples,  in  all  lands,  and  in  all  times. 
To  be  a  seer  of  tlie  truth  and  a  revealer  of 
it  to  men  is  not  an  exceptional  fact  which 
has  taken  place  now  and  then,  here  and 
there.  The  mind  and  soul  of  man  has 
yearned  for  truth  and  life  all  through  the 
centuries  and  the  ages  that  have  vanished. 
So  they  will  in  all  times  to  come.  Truly 
the  Spirit  of  God  interfuses  all  souls,  aud 
comes  as  a  witness  to  every  heart.  But 
most  of  all  to  wise  and  holy  men  is  his 
presence  known,  —  those  who  have  tried  to 
fill  the  soul  and  mind  and  heart  of  man 
with  faith,  hope,  and  love.  These  men  have 
lived  in  every  land,  have  taught  in  every 
clime,  have  raised  up  those  who  fall  in  every 
time.  It  is  they  who  see  the  truth,  and 
teach  the  sons  of  men. 

Oriental  precept  tells  us  that  the  wise 
Confucius  divined  the  law  and  revealed  it 
unto  his  brothers  who  were  blind,  to  guide 
them  in  the  devious  ways  of  life.  The  gen- 
tle Prince  Siddhartha,  whose  stainless  shrines 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       263 

are  daily  overlaid  with  flowers,  in  whom 
the  light  of  Asia  shines,  reveals  a  hope  and 
refuge,  greater  than  any  one  can  tell,  to 
countless  weary  hearts.  The  strong  and 
devout  soul  of  Socrates  still  converses  with 
the  Spirit  of  the  universe,  in  the  hearing  of 
men  who  care  to  listen  to  that  voice  which 
seemed  to  reveal  the  very  source  of  inspira- 
tion. Daily  with  the  Father  communed 
the  blessed  Son,  whose  sermon  on  the  mount 
is  a  deeper  inspiration  and  a  mightier 
revelation  than  the  world  has  elsewhere 
seen  or  heard.  And  it  seems  that  all  true 
prophets  since  the  world  began,  and  all 
true  poets  in  the  vanishing  years,  are  seers, 
inspired  to  make  revelations  of  the  truth  to 
man. 

That  there  was  an  inspiration,  as  well  as  a 
revelation,  in  some  way  vouchsafed  to  him, 
we  cannot  doubt,  who  knew  him  well.  It 
was  not  in  the  low  and  vulgar  way  of  com- 
mon men,  but  from  an  insight  —  a  seeing  — 
into  the  universe  of  man  and  nature,  where 
lives  and  moves  the  eternal    Spirit.     That 


264       MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.    WIGHT. 

we  may  know  in  some  sense  how  this  was  so, 
we  may  j)araphrase  the  thoughts  of  the  poet 
"  On  the  banks  of  the  Wye,  while  he  was 
visiting  the  ruins  of  Tintern  Abbey:  "  — 

In  his  boyish  days  nature  was  to  him  all 
in  all.  In  after  years  he  could  not  paint 
what  then  he  was.  It  was  then  the  sound- 
ing cataract  like  a  passion  haunted  him 
with  the  enchanting  music  of  its  waterfall. 
The  forms  and  colors  of  the  high  rock,  the 
lofty  mountain,  and  the  deep  wood,  then 
awakened  an  appetite  for  Him  who  shaped 
the  world,  —  and  shaped  it  long  ago.  A 
feeling  of  a  Presence  and  a  love  for  what 
the  eye  could  see  burned  and  agitated  all  the 
elevated  thoughts  within.  All  the  achinof 
joys  and  all  the  dizzy  raptures  of  that  time 
are  passed.  The  shore  on  which  they  rose  is 
"  lying  low."  Other  gifts  were  his,  of  more 
abundant  recompense  and  greater  power. 
For  in  the  passing  years  he  had  learned 
to  look  on  nature,  not  as  in  the  hour  of 
thoughtless  youth,  but  often  hearing  the 
still,  sad  music  of    humanity.     It  was    not 


MEMORIAL   OF  0.   W.   WIGHT.       265 

harsh,  nor  did  it  grate  upon  the  ear,  though 
it  was  of  ample  power  to  chasten  and  sub- 
due. 

"  And  I  have  felt 

A  presence  which  disturbs  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts  :  a  sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean,  and  the  living  air, 
And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man  ; 
A  motion,  and  a  spirit,  that  impels 
All  thinking  things,  all  objects  of  all  thoughts 
And  rolls  through  all  things." 

That  he  had  faith  in  this  life  is  well  at- 
tested by  what  he  said  and  did  and  wrote  on 
occasions  too  many  to  enumerate.  And  it 
was  all  to  him  a  very  real  and  earnest  thing. 
To  such  natures  life  is  always  intensely 
realistic,  even  in  its  moods  of  elevated 
thoughts.  And  that  he  believed  in  a  future, 
another  world  vaguely  expressed  by  the 
word  eternity,  he  has  expressly  told  us. 

When  he  mentioned  some  great  pictures 
he  collected  at  Rome  and  at  Dresden,  the 
impressions  made  by  these  "  precious  pic- 

12 


266       MEMORIAL   OF  0.  W.   WIGHT. 

tures  "  could  be  recalled  in  sleepless  nights  ; 
they  were  seen  as  imperishable,  and  with 
the  expectation  of  being  carried  "into  the 
next  world." 

That  he  was  in  youth  a  dreamer  —  a  philo- 
sopher, and  Plato  his  master  —  may  be  true, 
but  that  in  later  years  he  became  a  practical 
realist  was  shown  by  his  works.  And  yet 
the  solution  of  every  practical  problem,  as 
it  came  to  thought  and  hand,  was  touched 
by  a  wise  philosophy,  beautified  by  a  poetic 
imagination,  and  vivified  by  pathetic  elo- 
quence, —  until  its  shadow  fell  over  into  the 
hereafter.  And  its  fruition  kept  company 
with  the  good,  which  is  eternal,  —  and  part- 
ed with  evil,  which  "is  a  perishable  acci- 
dent." 


Aq.^ 


